


Octo Callidus Debitum

by LlibLo



Series: Broken Nor Series [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, BAMF Peter Parker, Dark, Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), Gen, IronDad and SpiderSon, Nano Technology - Freeform, OCD, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Read at Your Own Risk, Revenge, Selectively mute, Sequel, Spider-Man vs Doc Oc, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark adopted Peter Parker, Trauma, Viewers Discretion is Advised, Which is a good thing in this one, recovering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22188550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LlibLo/pseuds/LlibLo
Summary: Now out from under the control of Aunt May, Peter doesn’t know what to do with his newfound freedom. His instincts tell him to completely throw himself into the role of Spider-Man, but his newly adopted parents, Tony and Pepper Stark, want to gently guide him into living a normal teenage life. Will Peter learn that there is more to life than Spider-Man? Or will one man’s obsession for revenge show Nor that Peter Parker died long ago?
Relationships: Karen (Spider-Man: Homecoming) & Peter Parker, Otto Octavius & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Flash Thompson, Peter Parker & Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Broken Nor Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1256036
Comments: 16
Kudos: 82





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you guys have been waiting for this a long time! Well, get ready. This'll be fun! I'm gonna be honest I've missed writing Spider-Nor, glad to have a story with him again! Enjoy!
> 
> WARNING!
> 
> THIS IS NOT A STAND ALONE.
> 
> If you have not read Always Silent, Peter Darling read that before this! This is a continuation and some portions will not make sense without the first book.. but if you really want to read this without the first book then I guess go ahead, there might be some stuff that won't make sense. You have been warned.

“I’m pretty sure this thing is gonna have a seizure the moment we turn it on,” Ned said skeptically. 

“Nonsense,” Peter said with a sly grin. “It’s gonna work just fine,” He looked down at the old green text-based computer screen and started finishing up a few lines of code. 

Despite the fact that Peter had been selectively mute for over a decade, his vocal cords were hardly affected by the silence. With regular visits to a vocal therapist, he was already making great progress in improving his speech, but even with all the help, he remained soft-spoken with a low deep tone.

“Dude, you’re trying to run _Skyrim_ on three dozen processors and at least six bootlegged graphics cards,” Ned had grabbed a fire extinguisher and stood with DUMMY on guard.

DUMMY beeped happily at being included, the excitable robot raised its claw holding the nozzle of his own fire extinguisher at the horrendous mass of computers parts strung together in the far corner of the workshop. 

“Dummy, I swear to god if you douse this thing again while it’s NOT on fire, you’re getting donated to a Kentucky High School.” Peter checked the wired connection to the secondary computer screen that looked out of place compared to the rest of the 1990s computer tech. There were at least three different adapters connected to the end, and one of them was held together with duct tape. 

Ned just laughed. “You gotta admit that was pretty funny.”

“Shut up,” Peter said as he attempted to hide his grin. “And these aren't bootlegged, I made them myself.”

“Sorry,” Ned rolled his eyes. “ _Jerry-Rigged graphics cards_ ,” he sarcastically corrected. 

Finishing with his checks, he took a small step backcrossing an arm over his chest. “Alright, here goes nothing,” Peter hit enter to start the program he then brought his hand up to run his knuckles over the uneven skin of the claw mark scars on his face.

The homemade retro computer came to life. It hummed and whirred, seeming to struggle to keep up with the command. While Peter watched the secondary computer screen with intense interest, Ned kept side-eyeing the rest of the computer for signs of smoke. The screen flickered then darkened before a digital fog rolled across the screen and the start screen glowed to life. 

_“It’s working!”_ the two boys exclaimed with varying degrees of surprise.

“Wait,” Ned frowned. “Where’s the sound?”

Peter dropped his head and slapped a hand over his eyes. “Crap, how did I forget the audio?!”

DUMMY made a surprised noise, causing Peter to look up quickly. “Dummy, wait!” 

But it was too late, the bot was already coating a portion of the computer in fluffy white fire suppressant. Ned burst out laughing, which caused him to drop his own fire extinguisher. Peter covered his face again, letting out a long groan. 

DUMMY somehow managed to look proud of himself when the computer components were thoroughly soaked. How a one-armed robot managed to do that was beyond Peter.

“Why does it smell like smoke in here?” Tony asked as he entered the workshop. He had a coffee mug in hand and a StarkPad nestled under his arm.

“Pete set his computer on fire,” Net said plainly. 

“Did not,” Peter crossed his arms. 

“Did too.”

“Well, I didn’t see it,” Peter pouted. 

“Good thing Dummy did, you being a good lab assistant?” Tony asked the bot, who replied with a set of happy trills, “Of course you are,” Tony patted the robot’s arm before turning to Ned. “Your mom called, she’s wanting you home pretty soon.”

“Alright,” Ned said grabbing his bag, “See ya tomorrow, Pete,” Ned waved. 

Peter just gave a silent wave in response. 

“So how’d the test run work, kiddo?” Tony asked as he took a sip of his coffee looking over at the computer. The fire suppressant was already starting to dissipate. It was designed for electric fires so that there wouldn’t be any additional damage to the computer after the suppressant evaporated.

Peter muttered something quietly under his breath. 

“What was that kid?” 

> _I forgot the audio_ < Peter signed, the translator speaker tucked against his collar spoke out a voice similar to his own. His arms were pulled close to himself and he used on hand to scratch his scar nervously, his eyes darting across the computer.

Tony gave Peter a soft smile before setting his mug and tablet down, he slowly walked around the computer looking at all the intricate pieces. Peter’s ingenuity with the limited technology was impressive, the purpose of the exercise was to overcome the limitations of the given technology. He’d bet the Iron Man suit that there was some patent worthy designs in there that just needed some polishing up, but really, he couldn't be more proud of what Peter accomplished. 

And that was just his technological accomplishments. 

Tony finished the little examination and now stood next to Peter, he put an arm across the kid’s shoulders, pulling him close, “You know, audio or not, this is the most impressive thing I’ve seen someone do with dinosaur tech, and I _lived_ the 90s.”

Peter paused with his scratching to look up at Tony with a small smile, “Really?”

“‘Course,” Tony said without a doubt. “Plus, I never even expected the start screen to run with this junk,” he laughed. “It was literally impossible, but no, you designed your own freakin’ graphics card, Peter! That’s genius ingenuity at its finest.” He gave Peter a reassuring pat on the shoulder before pulling away so he could pick up his mug again.

“Did you expect me to fail?” Peter asked raising an eyebrow. 

“No, I knew you’d come up with something,” Tony grinned over the rim of his coffee mug.

Peter just rolled his eyes with a smile. 

“This is a good place to stop anyways. I’m sure you’ll get that audio running in no time, but Pep wants you upstairs for dinner,” he lightly tapped Peter with his tablet, nudging him in the direction of the elevator. 

“Taco night?” Peter asked excitedly. 

“Well, it _is_ Tuesday,” Tony shrugged. 

“What about you?” 

“I’ll be up in an hour or so. Got some designs to finalize,” Tony looked back to see Peter’s raised eyebrow, “Yes, I’ve got that miss’ permission.”

“Just making sure, you wouldn't want her dragging you up there with a suit,” Peter turned to walk towards the elevator door.

“Definitely not living through that again,” Tony shivered. 

Peter chuckled at the image of Pepper holding Tony in the elevator by the shirt collar as if he were a misbehaving cat.

When he stepped into the elevator he requested Friday take him to the penthouse.

> _Karen would like me to remind you that you have an English test tomorrow over poetry terms. She has prepared a study guide for you and is eager to help you prepare,_ < FRIDAY said just after the doors closed. 

Peter froze, looking wide-eyed at the elevator doors. How had he managed to forget something like that? He was supposed to be on top of his assignments, he was supposed to make _perfect grades_. He can’t do that if he keeps forgetting about the simplest assignments. What if he failed- 

>Peter?< The AI interrupted. >I am to remind you that your worth is not measured by your grades. I’m sure you’ll do great tomorrow.<

He took in a long breath, releasing it, then took in another. 

Right, this was Tony and Pepper. They weren't Aunt May.

“I know that,” Peter reminded himself.

_It had only been two months since he killed May._

Really, it felt much longer. The days moved slowly but he still couldn’t help the feeling that this was all temporary, that the rug would be pulled out from under him any day now. He hasn't mentioned it to Tony, or his AI therapist HAL for that matter, but there was this slow build of anxiety that’s been hovering over him since the first day he moved in. Yeah sure, he was safe and happy now, but how long would that last? How long did he have with Tony and Pepper? Would something take him away from them? Or worse, would they decide they didn’t want something as broken as he was?

_Stop it._ He told himself. He knew, logically, that those were all irrational worries caused by his anxiety.

The elevator doors dinged open and Peter tried to physically shake those thoughts out of his head. He stuck his hands in his pockets and put a pleasant smile on his face so he wouldn’t worry Pepper when he saw her. 

The elevator opens into the living room, Peter stepped out and followed the curve of the wall of the large open space to turn a corner into the kitchen. The architecture of their Park Avenue apartment was mostly organic in nature but definitely open and homely. There were few pictures on the walls and shelves, some of Tony and Pepper’s wedding, others of just Peter and Tony in the workshop, but most of the spaces for pictures were empty. Pepper said it was a promise to fill the empty spots with pictures of them as a family. 

Peter liked that idea.

He wondered if they would let him go camping next summer. Peter never had the opportunity and it was something he vaguely remembered Uncle Ben promising him they would do when he was older. 

Having a picture of Tony and Pepper Stark roughing it in the wilderness would be priceless. In reality, they’d probably rent out a cabin or something. They could still try their hand at fishing, they could go hiking, and maybe hunting too? He could go without that last one, he’d enjoy it all either way.

“Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Could you grab some plates, sweety?” Pepper said after he entered the kitchen. She was still stirring the ground beef in a pan.

Peter nodded as he went over to the cabinet, reaching for a couple of plates. He set them on the counter near the taco shells. “Want anything to drink?” Peter asked.

“Water would be fine, thank you,” she smiled. 

Reaching for the glasses, Peter filled one with ice and filtered water from the refrigerator door before setting it on the kitchen island where the bar stools were. Next, he pulled the fridge open to grab the cranberry juice from the top shelf. He filled the second glass, then set the jug on the island where he planned on sitting. He knew he’d probably finish his first glass before dinner was served.

“So how’s school going?” Pepper asked.

“It’s good, straight As. I’ve got a test in English tomorrow that Karen’s helping me study for,” Peter shrugged as he took a drink. He still had a habit of being kinda distant towards Pepper. She repeatedly told him it was fine but he couldn’t help feeling bad about it. But his biggest struggle was talking about Spider-Man business with her. “Probably while I’m on patrol later,” he said hesitantly, it was bizarre being so open about it after hiding it for so long. 

He instinctively kept checking his spidey sense for any warnings, but of course, there were none. This was a safe place. It was still something he was adjusting to.

“That would be a good use of time between catching thugs,” Pepper nodded. “So how’s the- um- spider thing? How’s that going?” she asked. 

“It’s good, really good actually. Was kinda bummed out that I had to wait a while before going out again since I couldn’t let Spider-Man and Peter Par- Stark’s reappearance be so close to each other,” Peter couldn’t stop the smile on his lips as he said his new name. Another thing he had to get used to, but something he was glad for.

“I’m relieved that you’re keeping it a secret. God knows how much trouble we’ve had with Tony outing himself as Iron Man. He was _supposed_ to tell the world Iron Man was a bodyguard, but what’s done is done,” Pepper sighed as she took the pan off of the stove setting it on a red and black striped pot holder. 

Peter sipped on his cranberry juice, “I don’t think I could do that, at least not anytime soon. Not with… me being Nor.” He looked down at his red drink quietly. 

“Nobody blames you for that, Peter,” Pepper reassured. 

Peter just shrugged.

“Here,” she said, handing him one of the plates he pulled out earlier. “Fix yourself a plate, I’m going to go get a movie started and we’ll eat there since Tony will be in the shop.” 

Peter just nodded with a faint smile. 

***

A truck’s engine echoed through the street.

A car honked a few blocks over.

And if he listened closely, he could head the deep bass of the music playing at one of the nearby nightclubs. 

Peter crouched on the back of a gargoyle looking over the city. With his eyes closed, he took a moment to enjoy the sounds of the city that never sleeps. 

God, he loved this city. 

His hood was pushed back and he was relaxed enough to enjoy the cool autumn air gently brush against the back of his neck. It was the sound of distant police sirens that caused him to blink his eyes open. 

“Karen, where’s that coming from?” he asked as he turned his head towards the new noise. He used his voice much more as Spider-Man than without the mask. It was a little deeper and more pronounced with comfortable confidence. New Yorkers have already started to notice the difference, some even posted on Twitter that it sounded less ‘cheery’. Whatever that meant. He hadn’t been purposely putting any emotion into his last voice, but to be fair that one was controlled by sensors that judged his facial expressions. He didn’t think too much about what that might mean now.

> _The National Bank of New York reported a breaking earlier tonight,_ < Karren replied after a short moment. > _From what I can tell, the camera feed was cut and it was the secondary alarm that was triggered from an unauthorized use of the basement vault._ <

Spider-Man grabbed the edge of his hood yanking it on as he jumped off his perch. Nanoparticles snapping into place allowed the hood to keep its shape as he swung through the city. He was closely following the most efficient route that Karen had mapped out on the HUD. His time in the fighting ring had allowed him to nearly perfect his maneuverability in close quarters, and some of that even translated well into navigating the streets of New York, but Peter frowned at the fact that he wasn’t perfect yet. 

Spider-Man landed on the roof of the bank, and he beat the police by a handful of minutes. Hopefully, he could have this wrapped up by the time they got there. If not, well, he certainly didn’t want it looking like he was the one robbing the place. 

Spider-Man pushed through the window panel on the skylight as he crawled his way into the building. He clung to the ceiling and spotted the deactivated cameras, and that gave him an idea.

“Karen, is the baby monitor protocol still running?” Spider-Man asked quietly. 

> _No,_ _Mr. Stark deactivated the protocol within the new suit,_ < Karen replied. 

“Aw, that was nice of him,” Spider-Man grinned under the mask as he crawled across the ceiling, looking around nothing seemed out of place but his spidey sense gave a small warning. 

**_Not Alone._ **

“I’m going to need you to reactivate the protocol, and rename it…” He paused in thought, “The Spider Eye Protocol, can you do that?” 

> _Of course!_ < she said cheerfully. > _Once I’m connected to FRIDAY again, I’ll make sure to update her on the change. Was there anything else you wanted to add?_ <

“Leave a note saying it’s to clear up any speculation on Spider-Man’s actions in case his integrity is questioned.” Spider-Man dropped down from the ceiling with quiet feet onto the marble floor. Glancing at the floor plan of the building provided by Karen, he quietly made his way down to the lower vaults. “Also note that if there is speculation, the appropriate footage should be sent to Lieutenant Hank Anderson or Detective Connor Octen of the NYPD… Tony trusts them,” and Peter would never forget the help they provided with keeping some of Peter’s secrets. 

Stepping down the last steps, Spider-Man peered around the corner. He spotted the large vault door hanging open- the locks looked undamaged and the computer screen to the right of the door was flickering with an odd string of code, but there was no other visible sign that someone was in the area. Still, his spidey sense thrummed with a low warning of another’s presence.

>Infrared view.< Spider-Man signed the designated shorthand of the word so he could activate it silently. His vision shifted to an array of cold blues and blacks mixed with searing reds and whites. 

Slowly stepping into the open room, he frowned. There was no sign of anyone hiding. Even looking into the open vault, he couldn't see any residual heat signatures of where someone would have touched one of the countless lockboxes. Glancing over, he could see that even the computer keyboard was devoid of heat. 

Spider-Man slowly walked into the vault. He hunched over slightly, ready to react in an instant to whatever he might face. 

**_Hostile Close._ **

His spidey senses flared. 

Peter’s heart raced but he kept calm under the mask. His mind trying to figure out where exactly the assailant was. 

**_Dodge Right!_ **

Spider-Man quickly leaned to his right and he felt a harsh thrust of air from a high-speed attack brush against his face. It didn’t give him much of an idea of what he was facing but he knew that whatever it was, its attacks wouldn’t be easy to recover from.

**_Projectile Incoming!_ **

He turned on his heel in an instant and shot a string of web at the money bag meant for his head. Instantaneously, he slingshotted it back in the direction that it came from, towards the opening of the vault. Instead of landing on the ground outside of the vault it collided with… something?

Something invisible. 

Peter looked on wide-eyed at the realization, he tried to shoot a blanket of webbing towards the invisible assailant but was a second too late as the heavy vault door slammed shut. A feat only possible by someone with extreme strength.

Spider-Man rushed to the door trying to push it back open but the locks already slid into place. “Karen, get this open!”

> _Already on it._ <

Spider-Man took a step back, ready to rush out the moment the round door opened enough but after a few seconds had passed and there was no movement of the mechanics, he started to worry.

“Status,” he ordered. 

> _The -_ < The AI sounded confused. > _The coding is corrupted beyond all repair. Even the OS is completely shattered. There’s no way of opening the door without manually unlocking it from the other side or reconstructing the code, but the police would arrive before that._ <

“ETA on them?” Spider-Man jumped up onto the ceiling to pull at one of the ventilation grates. Despite the size of the grate, the overhead vent was too shallow to squeeze through.

> _They’re on site. Body cameras suggest that they are making their way down the stairs. Guns are drawn and they think the assailant is trapped within the vault. Backup is on its way,_ < Karen reported. 

Peter chucked the grate to the floor in frustration. He was supposed to be studying for an English exam, not getting shot up by misinformed police!

He took in a breath. He had to calm himself, think.

The only way to exit the vault was straight from the door to the staircase, but the room was practically empty, leaving nothing to provide cover from the officers’ gunfire. Once he was up the stairs, over the desks, and into the main lobby, he could web his way up to the skylight. Homefree. 

Okay, he just had to make it past the officers in the basement. 

“Update.”

> _The two officers are in the basement. They are waiting for backup before opening the vault doors. Estimated time of arrival: two minutes._ <

Spider-Man dropped from the ceiling. He bounced on his toes in anticipation and shook out his arms. “Right, I’m gonna have to move fast. Really fast, I got this,” Peter nodded. 

> _You got this, Peter! < _Karen said encouragingly.

“God, I hope there aren't any trigger happy rookies.”

> _There are two rookies on their way, both started last week! < _Karen provided happily.

“Shit.” 

> _Aw, both have been best friends since childhood. I wonder if they’re enjoying their first week._ < She showed a picture of the two rookie officers. Spider-Man had nothing against them, but they were human, and sometimes running into a stressful situation without experience could lead to some unfortunate mistakes. He’d just have to watch out for them.

“Good or bad, they’re definitely going to have a good story to tell after tonight,” Spider-Man sighed.

> _Four additional officers have entered the building and are on their way down to the basement._ <

He stilled as he listened to the door. After the minutes started to stretch out, he heard the cranking of the manual release. 

> _Two opening the door, weapons holstered. Four with their guns drawn and fanned out in front of the door. < _

The door cracked open, Peter hated how exposed he felt. He couldn’t even hide in the dark since the blaring fluorescent lights in the vault were on overhead.

“NYPD, come out with your hands up,” one of the officers ordered. 

“It’s go time,” Spider-Man whispered.

The second that the door opened wide enough, Spider-Man bolted out. He immediately webbed up two guns, yanking them out of the officers’ hands.

**_Duck!_ **

Spider-Man dropped onto his back, a gunshot rang out, and he shot duel lines of webs on the floor behind the officers that fired. He flung himself forward knocking the officer of his feet. 

**_Jump!_ **

Spider-Man leapt into the air, a bullet dug into the marble, narrowly missing him. He webbed the attacking officer’s gun and hand to the nearby wall. 

**_Impending attack!_ **

His feet touch the ground again, and out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the two rookies at the door, one still holding the door open, the other with his gun drawn. Spider-Man winced. There was an officer directly behind him. The rookie was aiming high, and it would hit the other officer in the head or narrowly miss him. Spider-Man couldn't risk it.

**_Duck!_ **

He jumped. 

He felt the pain in his calf before his mind registered the gunfire. When he landed in a crouch on his uninjured leg, he quickly webbed the officer’s gun to the vault door while spraying a thick coat of webbing onto his calf before any blood could seep from the wound. He couldn’t leave any blood samples. 

_He had a faint flashback to escaping police custody._

In the next second, he launched himself toward the staircase. He rammed into the wall after an unprepared step on his injured leg, but he bit down the hiss of pain before he ran up the stairs at full speed. He slid over a desk and then on the front counter. The moment the skylight was in view, he slingshotted himself through the opened glass panel and into the cold city. 

  
  


The instant that he was a few blocks away on a tall building with no discernable roof access, Spider-Man stumbled into a land. His breath was heavy from the adrenaline rush and there was pain shooting up his leg. He let himself fall onto the graveled rooftop, panting. He looked down at his calf, taking a moment to decide what to do.

> _Peter you’ve been shot! < _

“Yeah,” Peter breathed. “I noticed… Dammit, I’ve got school tomorrow,” he gritted. Leaning forward, he reached for one of the hidden belt compartments on his suit. Thank god he decided to invest in pocket space for the newest suit. Better yet, he was glad he anticipated injuries. He pulled out a small black rectangular box about the same dimensions of the average phone. Popping it open and setting it to the side, he glanced at its contents: A few medical needles, string, antiseptic spray, cloth bandages and a long set of tweezers that stretched the box’s length. 

He grabbed the tweezers in one hand then reached into one of his front pockets, retrieving the compact knife that he placed there.

> _I am required to notify Mr. Stark of your injuries, < _ she continued quickly.

“That’s fair,” Peter winced. Tony was definitely going to be mad, but he couldn’t worry about that now - he had a bullet in his leg. 

He sliced open the webbing; it was probably holding the blood in a little too well. Peter wiggled his toes and scrunched his nose at the feeling of a wet sock in his suit. The moment the webbing was split, blood immediately began to pour out and pool on the ground at an alarming rate. Not that it was actually anything to worry about since that blood had already escaped his body. He tried not to freak out, and he tried _really_ hard not to freak out. 

“Deep breaths, Peter, you know what you’re doing,” he whispered to himself. 

He used the webbing he removed as a makeshift rag; he needed to see where the entry wound was before he could get the bullet out. “Any way you can scan this, Karen?” 

> _Area sensors are damaged,_ < she said regrettably.

“Looks like we’re eyeballing it,” Peter mumbled as he inserted the long tweezers. He gasped in pain but otherwise remained quiet. 

> _Incoming call_ <

“Prob-ably can’t ignore that can I- ah!” A sharp jolt of pain shot up his leg as he accidentally twisted the tweezers.

“ _You’re damn well right you can’t ignore it!_ ” Tony sounded panicked, “ _Peter, what’s going on, why were you shot?!_ ”

“Rookie with an itchy trigger finger,” Peter hissed when he finally found the bullet, the pressure of the tweezers were stabbing against his nerves.

“ _What are you doing, where are you?_ ” Tony asked quickly. 

“Karen, coordinates, and I’m digging out the bullet, what else would I be doing?” Peter tried to say as casually as possible, but apparently, that wasn’t the appropriate response.

“ _YOU’RE DOING WHAT?!?!”_

“It’s fine,” Peter grunted as he slowly pulled the bullet out of the entry wound. “I’ve done this before… well… twice. Turns out gang members don’t care if you’re the number one drug runner when you get caught in a firefight.” Again, that wasn’t the appropriate response.

“ _Oh my god. Oh my god, Peter,_ ” Tony sounded heartbroken.

Peter winced as he popped the bullet out, but it wasn’t from the pain, “I’m sorry,” he whispered. There was a faint clank as he dropped the bullet and tweezers. He probably should wrap up the still bleeding open wounds, but he was suddenly more distraught about Tony’s response than his own wellbeing. “I’m sorry,” he said again almost pleading.

“ _It’s ok. You’re ok, kid. I’m almost there, ok? What’s your progress?_ ” Tony spoke gently. 

“I- um, I got it out,” Peter just looked at his leg as he watched crimson darken his already red suit. Was he supposed to do something else? Whatever it was, he hoped it didn’t disappoint Tony.

“Good, alright good. Next, you gotta wrap your leg up, okay, buddy? Hold pressure to the wound.”

Peter slowly nodded as he grabbed gauze from the little box. He held them over the wound and pressed tightly as he sprayed webbing on them to help keep them in place, this time he made sure the web contacted his skin to create a seal that wouldn't leak into his suit. He just stared at the crudely bandaged wound. 

Who knew spider webbing wasn’t half bad as a bandage? Peter wondered if he could make a version that was mixed with antiseptic and a minor pain reliever. 

Someone was talking again. “Huh?” Peter said distantly. Shoot, right, it was Tony. He got caught in his head, why did he get caught in his head? Stupid, stupid, worthless-

“ _I asked how’s it looking, kiddo?_ ”

“Oh, good?” Peter replied nervously. Was he mad? He didn’t sound mad, but sometimes May didn’t sound mad either.

Peter shut his eyes tightly trying to listen closely to his spidey senses. He strained his ability trying to get even the smallest of reading to answer his question: 

_Am I safe?_

_Please just let me know if I’m safe?_

_Don’t be mad Mr. Stark, I’m sorry._

There was a faint thud behind him.

**_Very Safe._ **

Peter fluttered his eyes open in shock, that was new.

A metal hand rested on Peter’s shoulder, and Peter suddenly became aware that Tony had arrived and was fully clad in Iron Man armor. The man crouched down next to Peter to look at his leg. Peter grabbed the tiny med kit, tweezers, and knife. He tried his best to put everything back in the right pockets, but it was a little slippery when your hands were covered in your own blood. 

Tony hadn’t said anything since he arrived, but looking up at him, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking when his face was covered by the mask. 

“I’m sorry,” Peter said again. He held his head down and was suddenly glad for his own mask.

“You’re alright, Peter,” Tony sighed as he carefully picked the teen up. It was only then that Peter felt the wooziness of blood loss hit him full force. He leaned his head against the shoulder of the armor as Tony carried him bridal style. 

“You did good, kid,” Tony assured him. Peter sighed in relief as he let himself relax into Tony’s hold. 

He didn’t remember the takeoff or the flight, but he wasn’t worried. Peter knew he was safe.


	2. Chapter 2

He hissed as a strong punch collided with his jaw. Ignoring his spidey sense was something that he should be used to by now, but at times it became almost deafening as he refused to obey it.

The opponent threw him down to collided their knee with his stomach. He choked back a gag as the wind was knocked out of him. Before he could catch his breath, the opponent quickly picked him up, holding him above the crowd as they let out a triumphant yell before tossing him into the electric bars. His body spasmed and twitched as pain shot through every nerve. 

The lights of the arena faded out as were quickly replaced by darkness as he jolted awake. 

The ground was too soft, the smell of the room was wrong, everything was too damn quiet.

Nor shot up trying to figure out where he was. He jumped to the bedpost before launching himself into the ceiling corner as he tried to get his bearings. His breath ran ragged as he tried to force himself to calm down. None of this made sense, where was he? It had to be some kind of trick. Maybe a trap set by Mr. Thomas and May. That wouldn’t surprise him. 

He had to find an exit, the door was out of the question they’d be expecting that. He quickly glanced around the walls, there was a window covered in blackout curtains. Nor almost snarled at the sight of them, before jumping over to the curtains and ripping them down with his own weight throwing them across the room haphazardly. They clashed against the opposite wall with a loud bang, Nor didn’t have much concern for discretion at the moment, he was a wild animal trapped in a cage. He NEEDED to get out. 

He jumped to the large window, sticking to the glass as he raised both fists to bash his way through. When he contacted the surface, the glass immediately cracked, spider webbing around the focal point, but to Nor’s frustration, it didn’t shatter. He yelled as a result before he jumped to the opposite wall preparing himself to launch his way through the glass at full force.

“Peter!” someone called. Nor startled at the voice and quickly dropped down from the wall to hide behind the bed, he was shaking but he tried desperately to fight it. He was no use in combat if he couldn’t keep a steady hand.

“Peter, it’s me, Tony,” They said gently.

“Tony?” Peter said weakly. 

Tony slowly started to approach Peter. “You’re alright, everything’s fine. We’re in the penthouse you’re in your room. Everything is perfectly fine.” He stepped around the bed with his hands up in view.

Peter relaxed from his defensively crouched position as he sat on the floor awkwardly. His feet still partly tucked under him and his knees sticking out; it probably would have been uncomfortable for anyone else. He rubbed his eyes as he tried to shake the nightmare’s haze out of his head. 

“Hey kiddo,” Tony said gently, now crouched in front of Peter. “You coming back to us?”

Peter sniffed as he nodded, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “I thought-” he choked back a sob, “I thought I was back out there.” He took in a deep breath trying to hold back the waterworks. He’s cried enough, hasn't he?

“I know Petey,” Tony sighed as he pulled Peter towards him in a hug. He settled himself next to the teen with his back leaning against the bed. 

“Sorry,” Peter whispered.

“Nightmares like that can be a bitch,” Tony gave a small pat on the back, “You don’t have anything to be sorry for… Now, what I’m really worried about is your leg. Let’s take a look.”

Peter nodded before stretching his leg out. It was only then that he noticed he was still wearing his suit. The boots and gloves had been taken off and he definitely wasn’t wearing a mask. The suit was loosened and felt more like very fancy pajamas then what he was used to feeling in the skin-tight suit. Revealing his injured leg, he noticed it was all cleaned up, no sign of the smears of blood from earlier and it was all wrapped in a nice looking bandage instead of the webbing he substituted earlier.

Tony peeled some of the medical tape off to peek under the fabric. The injury must have looked fine since he smoothed the fabric out gently before sticking the tape back on to Peter’s skin. “Looks like it checks out. I gave you some stitches after you passed out, and they looked intact from what I can tell. No additional bleeding.” He patted the uninjured part of Peter’s leg and Peter took that as a signal to pull away. 

A small silence stretched between them.

“Anything... you want to talk about?” Tony asked a little awkwardly. He wasn’t the greatest with talking and feelings, but Peter could tell he was putting in the effort to change that for Peter’s sake.

Peter’s gaze drifted to the floor. “It wouldn’t be anything new. I was in the arena again.”

Tony nodded silently, “Has the little girl been causing you any trouble lately?”

Peter cringed at the thought of the mutant girl shot in front of him... and it was all because he refused to kill her himself. So much for trying to be a hero. He shook his head, “No, but she has a habit of creeping up on me when I don’t expect it.” 

Tony let the silence fall over them again before saying, “How about we go watch some Star Trek reruns? You’re probably not going to sleep anytime soon so might as well continue out marathon, so what do you say?”

“Yeah,” Peter said with a faint smile. “Sounds good.”

***

“Dude, did you study for the English test?” Ned asked as he sat down at the lunch table. 

Peter was resting his head on his arms with his hood pulled over his head, but it was up enough that he could look out and watch the people in the crowded lunchroom from the safety of the hood’s darkness. His tray was pushed in front of him. The sloppy Joe was half-eaten and he finished his milk. Other than that, he wasn’t feeling hungry.

Before he lived with Tony and Pepper, he couldn’t afford missing school meals and would often eat everything on his plate, but now, especially with the high-calorie protein bars he ate every morning, if he wasn’t feeling up to it, he didn’t have to eat the subpar school lunch. 

“No,” Peter said a little bitterly. “Karen made this whole study guide for me but I didn’t even get through a quarter of it because I got shot in the leg.” Peter tried to stifle a yawn but failed miserably. He wasn’t even going to mention how he only got two hours of sleep last night. There was no way that he could have gotten back to sleep after an episode like that. “I hope Karen isn’t too disappointed,” he sighed. 

“You got shot?!” Ned whispered loudly. 

“No need to advertise that,” MJ said as she sat down across from them. She gave Ned a sharp look. 

“Sorry,” Ned muttered. “But seriously, are you okay?” he asked nervously. MJ was also interested in the answer. 

“Yes, I’m fine, promise. It was in the calf. I’m just glad that we didn’t have gym today,” Peter sat up pushing his hood back only slightly making sure it hid the claw marks from the rest of the room. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed by it, he just wasn’t keen on attracting eyes right now.

“Wait, really?” Ned switched from worried to fascinated in an instant. “You weren’t even limping today! I didn’t know you can heal that fast, that is epic.”

Peter just game a sly smirk. Ned was probably overestimating his healing ability. His leg throbbed with pain and every step only made it worse, but he assured Tony it was fine and he really didn’t want to miss any school. Plus, it would be healed by the end of the school day, so he wasn’t too worried.

After that Ned dropped the subject, MJ just narrowed her eyes at Peter, who responded with a toothy grin. She just rolled her eyes. He always appreciated her ability to just  _ know  _ but that she still trusted him enough to know his limits. 

***

“ _ Alright, on to item 118 of the docket, _ ” said the tired judge. 

Tony was listening in to the ongoing cases of different countries and politicians who were challenging the very poorly-written Sokovia Accords while he was sitting in his home office doing some minor maintenance on a water purifier prototype. Some of the major basic human rights violations were slowly on their way to being corrected in the document. It had been over a year since the Accords had been signed and a year since the Avengers had split because of it. But they were finally adjusting the accursed document and adding some very important amendments to it. Or at least, trying. The rate of changes were already slow but as time went on, it would soon come to a stand-still.

Tony was using his bureaucratic charm at full force, putting pressure on some politicians and smooth-talking government officials, both foreign and domestic. But frankly, he knew that he alone wasn’t enough to propel the needed changes. His influence as Iron Man and Tony Stark could only go so far, and it didn’t help much that a lot of people were set in their ways of hating him. Not that he could blame them of course, because he could be a bit much at times.

Still, it was beyond frustrating to think that  _ that _ was the reason people refused to change an obviously flawed system. 

Tony scrunched his nose, his lips almost curled in a snarl as he thought of Peter growing up in a world where fear shrouded the minds of powerful men like Thaddeus Ross. This irrational fear caused men like Ross to make such a ridiculous document that might as well have been written in crayon. Ross would have had Spider-Man behind bars if he wasn’t such a small fish compared to Captain America; the manhunt for Cap was a large endeavor that no one was getting a lead on.

In a burst of anger, Tony abruptly stabbed his phone with the screwdriver he had been holding with a white-knuckled grip. The audio from the judge was cut off by FRIDAY. 

> _ Boss, your breathing exercises. _ <

Tony closed his eyes as he looked away from the burst of destruction, his hand shook as he released the screwdriver that was still embedded into the phone. Luckily, he’s stopped carrying his latest prototype and was using the current StarkPhone on the market, making it easily replaceable. “Right,” he said, sounding strained. 

In through the nose… Hold… Out through the mouth. 

Bureaucracy was frustrating, but it didn’t help that he was still recovering from the effects of the Widower suit. He missed the feel of the nanoparticles curling around him, the extra edge to his senses, the near-unstoppable power, but he didn’t miss how it affected his mind. “I don’t need it,” he told himself. “I don’t need it...”

_ But he wanted it. _

Tony shook his head. He hated that he wanted it, but at least it was destroyed. It helped against the temptation. After the shock that he had received on the back of the neck when his shrouded judgment let May Parker get the jump on him, the connection between the nanoparticles was fried. They were nothing but useless dust on the streets in New York now. 

It took a moment to finish calming himself. After a while, he took the screwdriver out of the phone, tossed the destroyed tech in the recycling bin, and immediately pulled out an identical phone from the closest desk drawer. He turned it on and FRIDAY did her thing in restoring the data. The judge’s voice filled the workshop again.

Where was he?

Something about the kid and Captain America… 

Rogers. 

That gave him an idea. Probably a terrible idea but the only one that actually had a chance of working. 

Tony sighed as he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, “Friday, what are the chances I could get a pardon for Spangles and his super pals?”

> _ Extremely low with Secretary Ross on the opposing side. _ <

“Sounds about right.” He took his fingers off his eyes as he blinked to clear his vision and took a moment to think. “At the risk of sounding like a supervillain, I think we’ve got to get rid of Ross.”

> _ How do you propose we do that? _ <

“Well, he did blatantly ignore the evidence that supported Roger’s claims of Barnes’ innocence. I wonder what else he’s conveniently forgotten to get what he wants,” Tony tapped the surface of his phone bringing it to life. Unfortunately, it didn’t include a holographic-projection display. Ross’ file showed on the screen, with many parts heavily redacted. 

> _ He was the one to push for the limited rights of the enhanced individuals that had signed the accords. There is even a loophole that is three lines down that suggests he could incarcerate any enhanced individual without proper cause or a signature _ <

“I wonder how much else he hid in those accords,” Tony mumbled. “Make a list of everything he contributed in the original writing of the document. It alone won’t be enough, but it’ll help. I’ll start gaining access to the digital stuff but I’m sure there’s more than enough buried in physical archives.” He already knew that he was going to need all the help he could get in digging up dirt on Ross. He slipped a hand in his pocket pulling out an old flip phone.  _ The  _ flip phone. The flip phone that he couldn’t make himself throw away no matter how much he wanted to, the one he had to carry around on his person at all times because of some misplaced sense of loyalty that still lingered.

Was he really about to set in motion a plan to pardon the ex-Avengers?

If it meant a safer future for Peter?

In a heartbeat. 

But that didn’t make it any less painful.

He flipped open the phone staring at the only number in the contacts.

**Steve Rogers; 678-136-7092**

Tony’s thumb hovered over the call button, then immediately slammed the phone shut and returned it to his pocket. He still needed to work out the full plan; the call could wait.

After retrieving the screwdriver, Tony went back to listening to the meetings and tinkering with the water purifier with the additional activity of looking over the digital files now projected on his desk hologram concerning Thaddeus Ross. He did his best work when multitasking.

The work session lasted an hour or two more, but he wasn’t really keeping track, and he only stopped when he heard the ding of the penthouse elevator down the hall. The court recordings stopped a while ago and he’d been focusing on the water purifier and Ross documents.

Something in the documents caught his eyes and he vaguely registered the zipper of a bag then the refrigerator opening in the distance.

> _ Boss, you have an Email from Mrs. Stark concerning Peter. _ < __

“Pull it up,” he said after finishing the section he was reading, his eyes shifted to another monitor as he looked over the email. With the purifier long abandoned, he used his hand to absently scratch his jaw. 

He read as Pepper explained how the police stopped by that afternoon, they were wanting to question Peter about his time as a courier and asked if the boy would be willing to testify at any court hearings.

‘ _... I don’t like the idea of Peter getting thrown into this so soon after his trials with May, but something like this would have to be his choice. We both know that he’s a hero type, and I don’t think we could stop him if we tried, but even then, it might damage his trust in us if we take that away from him. It’s admirable but terrifying. I worry about him too, you know? So don’t think I didn’t notice him limping this morning. If something happened, I want to know. Don’t keep me out of the loop, we’re in this together. _

_ Your  _ _ Wife _ _ , Pepper Stark.’ _

Tony winced as he read through to the end. He didn’t really mean to keep that from her, she was already in bed by the time he got the call that Peter was injured and didn’t want to stress her out that morning since Peter was already doing much better.

He stood up with his projected desktop closing down automatically at the gesture.

He’ll tell her what happened tonight, though he might just keep the part where Peter dug out the bullet to himself.

Stepping out of his office, Tony walked down a hall that opened up into the living room. Through the semi-open design, he could see Peter sitting on the kitchen island with a popsicle in his mouth as he tapped his pencil rhythmically against the table, only stopping to mark something down on the paper in front of him.

Tony made his way into the kitchen and he lightly patted Peter on the shoulder as he made his way to the refrigerator. “Hey kiddo, how was school?”

Peter pulled an earbud out of one ear as he glancing over at Tony giving him a small shrug before looking back at his homework. “It was school. It’s nice to have those advanced science classes finally,” he looked back at his homework writing down the answer to a physics question he had been working out in the margin. “It’s less boring now, not that it was boring before, I like science, it’s just more…”

“Stimulating?” Tony provided as he grabbed a water from the fridge.

“Yeah, everything was too easy before,” Peter nodded.

“Definitely too easy if you can design webbing in the free time of your chemistry class,” Tony joked.

Peter just grinned as he lowered his head in slight embarrassment. “I had to do something with my free time, and it’s not like anyone else was using the chemicals. Speaking of…” he leaned back in his chair, slightly glancing at his leg. “I have an idea for a new type of webbing. My normal webbing held up extremely well as a bandage, so if I could mix an antibiotic and anesthetic to help prevent infection and reduce pain, I’d have a sort of emergency bandage. I’d have to alter the base chemical which would reduce the tensile strength since that’ll reduce the thickness and allow the wound to breathe but still contain the blood, letting it scab over and I don’t need it to hold weight…” Peter trailed off as his gaze drifted with thoughts. “What if… wait, actually!” He practically dove for his bag and pulled out a well-worn composition book, turning to the next blank page somewhere in the middle. 

Peter quickly started scribbling down a chemical structure that Tony recognized as a drastically altered version of the original webfluid. “If I decrease the carbon, preventing the nano-tubing from thickening and  _ increase  _ the glycine and other amino acids then I can- oh my god,” Peter sounded shocked as an epiphany formed, “I can not only create a bandage but also  _ excel _ tissue growth, as it uses the webbing as an organic scaffolding during the healing process! Holy shit, holy shit!” Peter jumped out of his chair as he gathered his things. “I need- gotta- lab!”

Tony grinned at Peter’s giddiness. He adored how Peter was just as in love with science as himself. He really couldn’t have asked for a better kid. Unfortunately, since Tony was now supposed to be the responsible one, he was about to say something extremely hypocritical. “Hold up, Petey,” he had to grab the kid by the back of the collar to stop him from rushing off to the lab. “You gotta finish work before you can play. Write down all your ideas but you can’t go to the lab until you’ve finished with your homework.”

“What?!” Peter protested, “No way, you can’t.”

“Hey, you heard me. Homework,  _ then _ groundbreaking developments in medical biochemistry,” Tony managed a stern look despite how much he wanted to smile.

“Ugh, fiiiine,” Peter let out an exaggerated sigh as he quickly hopped onto the stool again. He wrote down notes in his composition book for nearly ten minutes before starting on his homework at a breakneck speed. Tony was sitting in the living room by then. He took care of some emails from SI’s R&D department while Peter worked. He made a silent note to check over his homework answers when Peter escaped to the lab. Couldn’t have him losing grade points from rushed math; he’ll make sure that Peter looks over any wrong answers he finds after the science high has worn off, and talking to Peter about Pepper’s email could also wait. It was rare that Peter was in such an energetic mood, and he didn’t want to spoil it.

***

Unsurprisingly, Peter was excellent at rushed math. There was only one wrong answer out of the 40 questions that he was assigned, and that was only because the question wasn’t very clear on what it was asking for. 

It was close to dinner by the time Peter came up from the lab because of his growling stomach. Tony had already started cooking a pot of garlic parmesan pasta. Peter sat down at the island in front of the school supplies he left scattered.

“You might want to look at number 38, but other than that, everything else looks good,” Tony said almost absently as he stirred the sauce in the pan. 

Peter frowned as he looked down at the paper, rereading the questions. He scoffed, “Well that’s stupid,” before listing the correct answer. “It’s like they purposely want you to find the wrong number.”

Tony glanced over at Peter as the teen started to clean his stuff up, he was very meticulous with where everything went. “There’s still a few minutes until dinner is done,” Tony commented. “But hey I was wanting to talk to you about something.”

Peter practically straightened to attention as he put his full focus on Tony. 

“Pepper had a visit from the police today and they wanted your help in apprehending some of the people you worked with,” Tony watched Peter out of the corner of his eye looking for any kind of reaction. 

“Oh?” Peter said with a light tone in his voice, it was as if he was expecting Tony to say something worse and was now pleasantly surprised.

“Pepper didn’t like the idea of that stuff being brought up so soon after… everything... and I’m kinda with her on that, but we still wanted to leave the choice up to you. Either way, we’re… uh- we’re gonna be supportive,” he said a little awkwardly. Tony internally winced at himself, and he wished he didn’t have the emotional expression of a lumpy potato, but give him a break, he was trying.

“I want to do it,” Peter said decidedly. “There was some fucked up shit in some of those places. I’d gladly give up what I know to take those monsters down.”

Tony was surprised at the steel in Peter’s tone. He hadn’t thought Peter would be so for the idea. Sure, he knew Peter was going to help the police since the kid was Spider-Man after all, but he thought that there would be a little reluctance. Guess when you had to deal with a Russian fighting ring, the courier business was a piece of cake in comparison. 

“Okay,” Tony just nodded in response. “I’ll make sure to tell Pepper about it tonight.” He glanced at Peter again who was looking off in thought, but this was somehow different from his inventing thinking. His eyes were darkened and his brow furrowed as he stood perfectly still (definitely not in a position that Tony would call relaxed). If anything, he looked like he was strategizing.

“I’ll need a time frame, but there’s someone I want to warn about this. His name will definitely come up, but he was only the middle man, and he never did anything. He just relayed information.” His serious tone faltered at his next words, “He was… nice to me,” Peter looked down at the table where his hands rested.

Tony looked over at Peter with a small frown. “Who was it?” he asked gently.

“Mr. John, he was nice to me,” Peter said again.

A flash of anger welled up in Tony’s chest, he quickly looked back to the stove as he continued with dinner. “That man,” Tony tried to keep his tone calm Luckily, he was successful, “He had you living in a closet.”

“There was nowhere else!” Peter said quickly, “It was comfortable and there was enough room to sleep in. I had a bed and there was a place to put my stuff!” he defended.

“He also had you cleaning the apartment,” the anger seeped into Tony’s tone this time.

“I did that voluntarily… Wait, how’d you know?” Peter asked looking up at the man.

“I could see your fingerprints on the cabinet and cleaning supplies when I was there looking for you,” Tony said plainly as he finished preparing dinner. 

“Oh… Well, he didn’t make me do anything. He just told me what my jobs were and he was nice. He just got caught up with bad people,” Peter said quietly. 

Tony sighed quietly as he turned to face Peter, he leaned back against the countertop. “Alright, I’ll figure out how long we have. If we can get him to agree to some kind of settlement, we can get him into protective custody, maybe even with some witness protection.” 

“Thank you,” Peter smiled at him gratefully.

“Anything for you, kid,” Tony said reaching a hand over to Peter’s shoulder giving it a quick reassuring squeeze. 

  
  


It wasn’t long after that when Pepper got home. 

She greeted them as she passed through the living room to get to her bedroom to drop her stuff off and change out of her heels. Once they all settled down at the kitchen table they ate their meal together. Pepper and Tony talked about SI and the R&D department until moving on to less business-oriented conversations. Peter usually stayed quiet, at least until they started to verbally pull him into the conversation, which always happened eventually. It’s not that Peter minded, he was just getting used to the fact that he can participate in fast-paced conversations, something he couldn't do before when he had to type his replies down.

“So Peter, how did that poetry test go?” Pepper asked.

“I.. um, probably could have done better. I think I passed, but I won’t know until Friday,” Peter looked down at his pasta, he was almost done but pushed the remaining food around on his plate just so he could have something to do. 

“Hey, passing’s good,” Tony provided. 

“Did anything else interesting happen during your day?” Pepper asked.

Peter just shrugged, “Not really. Just school, homework, and I’m going out later to patrol and I’ll be working with Karen to make a new training program.”

“What about decathlon?” Tony asked.

“Decided not to join this year, just wanted to focus on Spider-Man stuff. I just have the required classes,” Peter said casually.

Pepper gave Tony a quick glance, the look in her eye suggested there was a conversation to be had later. 

The meal ended and Peter was the first to get up, only to immediately started doing the dishes. Despite Pepper saying that she could handle it, the teen insisted. The moment the dishwasher had started, Peter rushed to get suited up and was out the window before the Stark parents could say another word.

Pepper let out a loud sigh, as she wiped down the stovetop.

“Honey, I’m not a mind reader,” Tony said fondly as he walked over to kiss her cheek.

She looked back at him perplexed, “Do you really not see the problem?”

“That sounds like a trick question.”

“I’m serious Tony,” Pepper said crossing her arms leaning back against the counter.

“So am I,” Tony replied.

“Haven’t you notice that Peter only does school and the Spider-Man thing?” she said carefully, and Tony had a feeling that this was an iceberg question. A seemingly innocent statement but a larger conversation hiding just under the surface.

“So he’s got a hobby,” Tony half-heartedly defended, “We’ve talked about this, we can’t take Spider-Man away from him without him doing it behind our backs.”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Pepper was silent for a moment as she put her thoughts into words. “We both know this hero thing his much more than a hobby, and you know that better than anyone, but we can’t let this be the only thing that consumes his time. ”

“He’s got school,” Tony provided, “His friends.”

“School is a requirement and he’s doing the  _ minimum  _ for that, only focusing on academics, and he barely invites any of his friends over.”

“Ned was over here yesterday, he had that computer project,” Tony said trying to think of when the last time Ned came over. That wasn’t the first, was it? Peter talks about his friends all the time but was that really the first time he invited the other kid over?

“I really think that he was only working on that because you asked him to. I’m not saying he didn’t enjoy it, I’m just saying that Peter...” She paused for a moment but continued. “I think Peter is limiting himself. We said that we would give him space, especially at first, but I’m afraid if we don’t start pushing him to try other things, he might forget that he’s a teenager. That he can have other hobbies, find out what he likes, what he doesn’t - just to have fun and not focus so much on the hero thing.”

“He doesn't do the hero thing  _ all  _ the time,” Tony tried.

Pepper just gave him a Look ™ . “Friday, how much of the day does Peter dedicate to patrols?”

> _ On average, over 45% of his day is spent on patrols or working on Spider-Man related activities _ < The AI replied.

“45% Tony, that’s over ten hours a day doing Spider stuff,” Pepper sighed. “Seven hours of school activities, five hours of sleep, two hours of everything in between, and that’s it, that’s what he does every day. Weekends are a little better; he worked in the lab on the computer project, but I think he’ll just start going out more now that that’s done.”

Tony blinked, Pepper was right, and now he felt horrible for not even noticing. “Then what do we do, Pep? Because, hell, I didn’t even notice that! God, what kind of parent does that make me?” Tony started to rub his eyes. Peppe moved over to him to rap her arms over his shoulders.

“That’s why there’s two of us,” she said with a small smile. “He still has trouble talking to me, so you’ll have to bring it up, but I really think we should encourage him to do more activities. Get an actual hobby that he would like, something to put his time toward that’s purely for his own enjoyment,” she worried her bottom lip, “I don’t think he realizes how much freedom he has now.” 

“Alright,” Tony nodded, “When he gets back tonight, I’ll talk to him.”

“Good,” Pepper nodded, a smile returning to her face. She pulled away and started looking at her phone, “Oh, and did you talk to him about the police stopping by?”

“Yeah, he was surprisingly excited to help them out.”

“I’ll make sure to let the police know,” she said with a short nod. “Now, why don’t you tell me what exactly happened last night?” 

“Um, funny story…” Tony began sheepishly. 

***

> _ Augmented Reality Training activated. Loading training sequence Cityscape:Maneuvers. _ < Karen said as Peter’s mask projected a set path and instructions onto his HUD.

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before,” Peter grinned to himself as he took off down the path.

After hours of analyzing his movements and scanning the city to calibrate the augmented reality training sequence, he was finally ready to actually start training. He wanted Spider-Man to be as fast and as efficient as possible when traveling through the city. Something like that could mean the difference between life or death for the victims of crime. He couldn’t let himself be the cause of something like that, especially if he could make sure that was never a problem.

Oddly enough, he’s been running on pure instinct up until this moment. Never had he considered a dedicated training regime, but just think of how formidable Spider-Man will become with it.

Using the augmented reality goggles he started to develop during the internship, it was easy to modify the suit’s mask to work the program with the necessary hardware additions. Sure he was going to make games for the AR goggles but he never really had a solid purpose for them, but they were just something he’s always wanted to make. Who knew they would be so perfect for training exercises? 

After sliding under an air duct and using a back handspring to propel him onto the next roof, he landed at the corner of the building where a large X marked the finish line.

> _ 2 minutes 28 seconds to cross 10 blocks. Augmented reality projection remained stable and was sufficient in scanning and recognizing paths. Would you like to continue training? _ < Karen asked. 

“Yes, and keep tabs on police scanners and audio in the surrounding area, it would be ideal to incorporate crime-fighting into the training route if the circumstances permit it,” Peter paused a moment. “Actually, make that a new program preset. Copy Cityscape:Maneuvers, rename new ART file to Cityscape:Traversing RL Crime. Increase the area of effect by three? No - five hundred percent. Incorporate a patrol pattern into the sequence. Lower complexity to compensate for the wider area, can’t overwhelm the pathfinder. Also, create three more presets. ART files Cityscape:Speed, Cityscape:Efficiency, and Cityscape:Precision but leave them blank for now. I’ll need to fine-tune those ones later.” 

> _ Gotcha! One moment please, _ < Karen replied cheerfully.

“Thank you,” Peter hummed. He was growing excited about this training program; there were so many possibilities with it!

> _ All done! _ <

“Awesome,” Peter stood up from his crouching position and looked down over the street below as he looked at ‘START!’, which was spelt in big green blocky letters floating in front of him. Once he jumped into the projection it would begin the training session. “Oh, another thing,” Peter said as he launched through the letters. He shot his webbing out to slingshot himself onto the next building to follow the projected path.

> _ Yes, Peter? _ <

“Call Ned, then I need you to isolate the footage from last night,” his voice sounded strained as he lept between rooftops. “Start from the moment I landed on the bank roof and stop just after I was trapped in the vault… I don’t want him to see the part with the police.” He couldn’t subject Ned to something like that. When he finished speaking, he could hear the dial tone in his earpiece.

“Yo, what’s up Peter?” Ned answered.

“Hey Ned,” Peter greeted, “You busy right now?”

“Just playing Injustice 2. Dude this thing is so awesome, the lighting is just epic, and the new arenas are amazing! Have you  _ seen  _ Swamp Thing’s character? I didn’t even know he had wings! So awesome. Oh! They also added Scarecrow, Mr. Freeze, and there’s a Batwoman DLC skin!” Ned rambled.

“Actually, I was hoping for my guy in the chair right now,” Peter asked hesitantly, he heard the background noise from Ned’s game go silent only to be replaced by the wheels of a chair moving and they typing on a keyboard. 

“What do you need, Pete?” Ned asked excitedly. 

“I’m sending you a video recording from last night, there was a bank robbery and some pretty weird stuff was going on. I’ve watched it a thousand times but I feel like I’m missing something.” Peter was  _ almost _ panting by the time he finally rolled to a stop at the training program’s checkpoint, but his spider endurance kept his breathing even. 

“Whoa, is this like another investigation? Do you think it’s another villain?” Ned asked.

“Don’t know about the villain thing, but yeah, I guess this is another investigation,” Peter sat down on the water tower he found himself on as he put the training program on pause.

“You know what we should totally do? Set up a file system for all the cases we investigate. Keep things organized and it’ll look so cool with our own system. I can set up an encrypted network to store it on so we can access it from anywhere, but I’ll need to piggyback on a Stark server if we want it to be fast. Think we can do that?” Peter could hear the tapping of keys on the other end of the line.

“Yeah, I don’t think Tony would mind. I’ll have Karen send you the info to get that started, though, she might have to talk to FRIDAY since she’s the one with the access to that stuff. I think just a password for it will work for now, and if we want to up the security, we can later,” Peter hadn’t even thought of an actual file system. He never even imagined Spider-Man as some kind of detective, but thinking now, Ned was definitely right, they had to put all that information somewhere.

“I got one,” Ned said immediately.

“What, a password?”

“Yup. How about ‘World’s Finest’? Capital W and F, apostrophe S, and a space between the two words,” Ned paused his typing.

Peter laughed fondly, “You must be really into DC right now.”

Peter could practically hear the shrug as Ned replied, “Hey, you know how it is when you get back into a fandom. DC comics is totally my jam right now.”

“You’d think they’d start losing popularity with the rise of real superheroes,” Peter commented.

“I know right? Weird how they actually got  _ more  _ popular.”

A notification flashed on Peter’s HUD. “Hey, gotta go Ned. There’s a mugging I gotta handle.”

“Alright, I look over that footage and work on the file system. See ya later!” The line clicked and Peter launched into the air to hurry towards the crime in progress.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to give a huge thanks to [caffeinatedchaosity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/caffeinatedchaosity/pseuds/caffeinatedchaosity) for being the wonderful fantastic beta for my story. They are amazing and defiantly help polish out the rough parts of my writing.

Peter landed onto the railing of one of the penthouse’s balconies with a light foot before hopping onto the balcony itself. FRIDAY was on constant watch to make sure that no cameras were pointed his way, though, with the cover of darkness, Peter was confident that no one could see him anyways.

He slid the balcony door open, tired from extensive use of his new training cores. There were a few bugs, but he was working them out; Karen was even simulating new movements and techniques only possible for a human spider to successfully execute but it would make his fighting style all the more proficient once he masters it. 

He had his abilities so there was no reason to _not_ take full advantage of them while crime-fighting.

Peter pushed his hood back and pulled off his mask as he walked over to the dimly illuminated kitchen. With the penthouse in night mode, there were a few dim lights strategically placed throughout allowing for late-night wanderers to find their way around without the bright overheads.

Peter didn’t bother asking FRIDAY to turn the lights on; in fact, she knew him well enough to dim them a little further since he preferred the darkness. There were better places to hide, it was easier to sneak, and if he needed to escape then he was harder to follow. Not that he needed to worry about any of that since he knew that there was no safer place than the Stark family penthouse, but it was still nice to have that comfort after coming down from the adrenaline high that he got from his patrols.

Opening the fridge, Peter grabbed a Gatorade only to immediately down its contents in big gulps as he reached for the upper cabinet that held his high-calorie breakfast bars.

The fridge closed automatically and once he had a breakfast bar he leaned back against the door’s cool metal surface. He took a bite of the bar as he closed his eyes, his head leaning back against the door. He was exhausted and sweaty from the training, his hair partly matted to the side of his face he turned his head so his cheek could feel the coolness of the metal surface. He’d have to remember to wipe down the fridge later so he didn’t leave any marks or smudges. But for now, he just took the moment for himself. 

Because he could. 

He was allowed to rest.

He didn’t have to fight anymore.

For the moment, he let himself just breathe. Each calming breath was a sign of the freedom that he would have never hoped to ask for. This freedom that he had been aching for for so long was something that Tony and Pepper gave to him _generously_.

He was fully aware that no average parent would allow their teenage kid to be out until 2 in the morning, let alone on a school night.

Peter smiled. 

Because that’s what they were to him now, his parents. Tony Stark was his dad and Pepper Stark was his mom, and wasn’t that just fantastic? To go from fearing his life to having a family? To be home? Because he was home, in every truest sense of the word, he was _Home_. He couldn’t have even comprehended a notion like that two months prior.

Peter took in a final breath before pushing off the refrigerator. He finished the Gatorade and took the last few bites of the breakfast bar before looking back at the fringe where the sweaty imprint of his head was. 

“Gross,” he laughed to himself. “Definitely taking a shower before bed.”

He grabbed a rag from the oven handle and the spray cleaner from under the sink before giving the metal finish a quick clean before going over the rest of the countertops and oven. Not that he really needed to - the house had a regular cleaning crew - but the ultimately useless task at least let him feel like he was helping. It never felt like he was contributing enough to the household, and that feeling pulled at his nerves. He quickly stomped it down. He had no reason to feel like that. He was fine, everything was just _fine_ , and he didn’t need to clean the house. 

That was probably the umpteenth time he’s told himself that. Maybe he should mention it to Dr. HAL…

Peter shook his head. No, he was fine; he didn’t need to mention that. It was stupid anyway. 

He finished up, putting everything back in its place before turning to leave the kitchen. He felt tense but chalked it up to tired muscles.

Peter stopped when he heard the elevator ding. He went rigid, hiding in the shadow of a corner as he listened for the doors to open. He watched towards the hallway and immediately relaxed when he spotted Tony heading towards him. He moved out of his hiding spot and FRIDAY rose the light levels slightly. 

“How was patrol?” Tony asked, completely unsurprised to find Peter in the dark. He held an empty coffee mug in his hand and was probably on his way to refill it.

“Good, not much going on this evening… Remember that AR set I was working on? I decided to put training simulations in it. I call it ART: Augmented Reality Training,” Peter grinned.

“I’m guessing that’s why you smell like a gym,” Tony remarked playfully. 

“Do not,” Peter crossed his arms as he followed Tony back into the kitchen. 

Tony raised an eyebrow. 

“Ok, maybe a little. But I was going to take a shower. I’m not _that_ gross.” 

Tony just laughed as he started the coffee maker, “But seriously, ART is a pretty good idea. Need any help designing training sessions or simulations?”

“No, I think I got this one. I do need help on the web bandage though. I don’t think I’m getting the balance right. It keeps turning into a sort of green useless goo.”

“Bet you can easily rope Bruce into helping you,” Tony smirked. “He hasn’t seen the new lab yet. I promise it’s love at first sight. He’ll definitely enjoy geeking out with you and it’ll be a good excuse to get him over here. It’s been a while since he’s been around,” Tony said absentmindedly as he began brewing a cup of coffee.

Peter frowned. He was pretty sure that the ‘Bruce’ he was talking about was Dr. Banner, and he has been missing since the Battle of Sokovia, at the very least.

“What do you say, kid?” Tony glanced at Peter but immediately furrowed his brow at the teen’s expression, “Something wrong?”

Peter swallowed before speaking, his frown replaced by worry, “Um... Dr. Banner has been missing since Sokovia… hasn't he?”

“Oh,” Tony said looking blankly back at the coffee machine. “Yeah, I guess you're right,” his voice was quiet. “FRIDAY, make a note of memory lapses in withdrawal side effects,” Tony whispered, probably hoping that Peter wouldn’t hear him. The room fell into a cold silence before Tony spoke again, his light tone returned as if he didn’t just forget about a missing friend. “Hey! Actually, I needed to talk with you about something.”

Peter quickly took the change of subject. “What about?” he asked curiously as he put his rested his elbows back against one of the marble counters.

“Look, I know what you’re going to think about this, but hear me out first,” Tony looked back at Peter, who could already tell this was going to be one of those parenting talks by his tone of voice.

Peter bit the inside of his cheek trying not to show his worry as his mind raced to figure out what he might have done wrong to initiate this talk. He nodded.

“Now, you know Pepper and I are completely supportive of your friendly neighborhood spider-gig, but we both think it would be best that you start cutting back, it-”

“What! Why?” Peter asked quickly- any other request he would have complied with whether he liked it or not, but he would always draw the line at Spider-Man. He wouldn’t let anyone take that away from him. 

“Just reduce your patrol times, that’s all we’re asking. You’re still a kid, Peter, and we want you to at least enjoy this time in your life. Do whatever it is normal teenagers do, you know? We don’t want you to miss that,” Tony said gently. 

“But I’m not a normal teenager. I can’t just _not_ be Spider-Man,” Peter said quickly; he could feel his chest tighten at the fear of losing that. 

“That’s not what we’re asking… We just want you to put yourself out there a little more. Get a hobby, rejoin decathlon, get involved with a club- Hey! You can even go back to the internship. We can reduce the hours to make it every other day if that’ll help,” Tony said in a calming yet enthused voice, but his worry for Peter showed.

Peter couldn’t help but turn his gaze away from Tony. He didn’t respond as he bit his lip nervously.

Tony thought for a moment before saying, “Here, let’s make a deal. You pick two other things you want to occupy your free time with that _doesn't_ involve anything spider-related and we’ll call it good. How’s that sound?”

Peter forced himself to shrug. He couldn’t even bring himself to glance at Tony and his body was rigid with tension.

“Peter, we are not, I repeat, we are _not_ taking Spider-Man away from you. We just -” he paused as if trying to find the words. “You don’t have to sacrifice being Peter to take on the responsibilities of Spider-Man. You can have both now,” Tony was standing next to him and had placed a hand on his shoulder. 

Peter took in a breath, maybe Tony was right. He only had Peter’s best interests in mind. It had been a while since he’s ever done anything for himself… but where was he even supposed to start? 

He relaxed slightly as he leaned towards Tony, “The… um, internship? I wouldn’t mind that, I guess… for starters,” he said quietly looking up at the man. 

Tony gave a grateful smile, “We can definitely work something out for that.” He removed his hand from Peter’s shoulder only to ruffle up the teen’s hair. “Now change out of that suit and take a shower. You’re making the kitchen smell like a boy’s locker room,” he joked.

Peter grinned shaking his head in amusement, “You sure that’s me? It smells like an auto shop in my opinion.”

“I’ll have you know that I wear only the finest cologne,” the billionaire boasted.

“Ah yes, Acqua di parma la motor oil,” Peter smirked.

“How dare you mock a great cologne company and butcher the Italian language in the same breath!”

“Goodnight, Tony,” Peter laughed.

“Yeah, yeah... Night, kid,” the man responded, who was obviously failing to hide a smile in the process. 

***

_“Wait, did he drop her out the window? Or did she fall?”_

_“Are we just gonna ignore the fact that he was working for the mob?”_

_“I thought he was strange before, but now he’s kinda creepy.”_

_“Guys! Shut up! He went toe-to-toe with the cops and fought a fucking bear! Do you really want him overhearing you?!”_

Students whispered. They always would, but the biggest gossip of Midtown High was the return of the newly-named Peter Stark, and it was still a buzzing topic. He probably wouldn’t have heard them if he had normal hearing, but it was hard to ignore the whispers obviously about you even without enhanced senses. Some of the rumors were laughable, but some speculations were a little too close to the truth.

_“I don’t care what the media says about it being an accident; if I had an aunt like that… I’d drop her out a window, too.”_

He knew he shouldn’t, but it was easy to fall back into old habits and go numb to the world. It made dealing with the whispers easier and it wasn’t like he couldn’t fake the appropriate emotions for conversation since he’d been doing it his whole life after all. Though, controlling his voice’s tone was something of a struggle. It was easy to sound judgmental or condescending when you forget to put the proper energy into the tone. Luckily, Ned and MJ never minded. Ned hardly noticed and he focused more on what was said instead of how it was said when they got deep into nerdy conversations. MJ, on the other hand, would point it out and help him correct it.

But his friends couldn't constantly follow him around to correct his mistakes, so it was a good thing he didn’t need them to. Not everyone has the privilege of hearing him speak. Without his suit he didn’t talk to people he didn’t trust, and no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, he felt surrounded by enemies.

Pretending like everything was normal was the easy part. Even if his body was on high alert and he was constantly checking out his peripheral vision in subtle increments, he kept a calm and confident stride down the school halls. Even though that was nearly the opposite of the Peter Parker they knew before. 

Pretending like everything was normal was far better than pretending like the shy, pathetic self he was before. That act was to deter anyone who looked too close, even if his hidden anger and fear sometimes broke through. 

But pretending like everything was normal sometimes gave the wrong impression. He didn’t pretend with his friends, or at least, he tried not to (some habits are hard to break) but walking around seemingly unfazed by the horrific events that he went through left some with the wrong idea.

It was during study hall that Peter found himself walking down the hallways towards the library where he would usually meet Ned and MJ. He’d planned to talk with Ned about the bank robbery footage, and Ned mentioned that he found something but he wanted to show him in person. He stayed a little later after class in Calculus - someone was struggling and Peter was glad to offer them some help - so the path he took that was usually bustling with students was now empty. 

Which was the perfect opportunity for someone to ambush him.

It was as he approached the small corridor that led down to the basement that he got the warning.

**_Hostile Intent._ **

Peter didn’t allow his step to falter, and from the low severity of the spidey sense as it traveled down his spine, he could easily assume that it was an ambush by some of the other students. Definitely more than one though.

He passed by the dark corridor where the students waited.

**_Hostile Contact._ **

Two sets of hands reached out to grab him, but one of the advantages of everyone knowing that Peter Stark was Nor is the fact he didn’t have to take shit like this anymore. He was a courier for the Brooklyn Deadeyes! Like he hadn’t been ambushed before.

He didn’t use his spider abilities, but he still managed to grab each of the attackers’ hands and twisting them at an angle that would be painful, then kicking their legs causing them to both take a knee. 

“The fuck do you want?” Peter said in a low and dangerous tone as he stood above them. The light casting an ominous shadow over his figure.

There was one exception to his ‘no talking to enemies' rule and that was to threaten them. 

“Shit!” One of them hissed in pain.

Now looking at the two, Peter realized who they were. He rolled his eyes and threw their hands back forcefully. The momentum caused them both to fall onto their backs. 

Every school had them. It didn’t matter how pretentious the school might be; there would always be users lurking around. 

Peter scoffed as he took a step back, he loosened his stance, but didn’t let his guard down. His hands lowered to his sides and remained closed in tight fists as he glared at the two in disgust. > _If you think you can get a fix from me, I hate to burst your bubble, but I’m retired._ < He didn’t even know the two boys’ names or if they had that kind of reputation, but he’s been in enough drug dens to recognize the hungry look in their eyes.

“Come on, man,” one of them said, scrambling to their feet. They failed in an attempt to regain some kind of dignity. “Mrs. Edenburrow’s forcing this huge writing assignment for seniors. We need something to chill out.” 

> _Like I said, I’m done with that stuff. If you try asking again, the office might get an anonymous hint to search your lockers and I’ll make sure they find something._ < Peter threatened. He turned on his heel to continue his path down the hall. He heard the two teens groan to each other about what to do next; one made the comment grumbling that he was sure Peter was lying.

Hopefully, that would be the last he would see of anyone like that. He really wasn't interested in dealing with those types of people- especially as Peter Stark. No matter how grateful he is for his adoption, he needed to acknowledge the fact that his last name now carried a heavy weight.

The rest of his journey down the hall was uneventful. By the time he pushed his way through the library doors he nearly forgot about the interaction with the two students.

When he found MJ and Ned sitting at one of the tables, they were deep in a debate about… something. Peter didn’t quite catch what they were talking about, but Ned immediately changed the subject when he spotted Peter. 

“Peter! Finally! You _need_ to see this,” Ned said excitedly as he pulled out his laptop. 

Peter sat in the empty chair next to Ned as he set his bag on the ground beside them. “The bank footage?” Peter asked eagerly.

Flipping the laptop open, Ned pulled up some kind of video-editing program that Peter wasn't familiar with. “So, I went through this thing about a hundred times last night. Running it through different filters in the suit trying to get _something_ but then it hit me.”

Peter frowned as he suddenly recognized the Adobe software that Ned opened. “Are you using…”

“Yup,” Ned grinned. “That Adobe program that analyzes pictures to tell you if it’s been edited. Of course, I know that your video is totally not edited, but I thought if the guy in the vault was using some kind of cloaking-thing then just maybe it might be picked up here.”

“Did it?” MJ asked. She was now on their side of the table leaning over Ned’s shoulder to watch the screen.

“Here, just watch,” Ned smirked as he tapped the spacebar to play the video.

Peter remained silent as he watched the video closely. The program made the image a grainy black and white canvas of pixels that outlined the objects in view. As Spider-Man looked around the corner of the stairs, a thin and almost indistinguishable outline of fuzzy red pixels dotted the screen, but they were so spread out and seemingly sporadically scattered that it was difficult to tell what shape stood in the vault.

“What… is that?” MJ asked.

“I have no idea,” Ned shook his head. 

“Is there a better view of it?” Peter asked quietly. 

“Yeah, there’s this one frame…” Ned trailed off as he clicked forward. 

The video paused on a frame taken just as Peter entered the vault, just before the invisible assailant first attacked Spider-Man. Peter felt chills shiver down his back as he looked at the image. Although it was distorted, Peter could recognize those four jagged, faint legs and the glowing red eyes.

If he wasn't sitting down, he would have stumbled in shock. “That’s impossible,” Peter whispered.

The others looked over at him. 

“You know what that is?” MJ asked.

“The way it moved, its ability, and now this? It has to be the Widower suit… but that was destroyed,” Peter hissed quietly.

“Could Stark have another one?” Ned asked.

“No, just the one. Even then it would have been under heavy security that only Pepper could get through. If he tried getting it without her we’d be notified,” Peter stared at the two glowing eyes.

“How exactly was the other one destroyed?” MJ asked, looking back at the image.

“When… um… When May kidnapped Tony, she got a jump on him. Tased the back of his neck with something high amped. I doubt she realized what she was doing, but it fried the suit. The nanoparticles practically collapsed into sand onto the ground. Even if someone knew what the particles were, they would have been completely useless. The _entire_ system was fried. There was nothing left but the hardware,” Peter exclaimed. He was quickly shushed by an annoyed-looking librarian. He winced and gave a quick apology before continuing. “Besides, nobody knew Tony was the Widower except for Pepper and me… Maybe the ex-Avengers caught on, but that’s a huge ‘if’. Even so, none of them would have helped May.”

“We’ve gotta be missing something then. No one just stumbles on Stark tech like that,” MJ moved back over to her chair on the other side of the table.

“So… are you going to tell Mr. Stark about this?” Ned asked.

“No. Absolutely not,” Peter shot back quickly. That was a no-brainer. Tony was still recovering from the effects of the suit, and if he found out about the suit’s reappearance now, he might say he was going after it purely to keep it out of the hands of the bad guy, but Peter knew that he’d be thinking about wearing the suit the whole time. Not to mention the amount of guilt that Tony would feel for not keeping it out of the villains’ hands. 

Was it even a true villain? There was too little information right now to tell, but Peter was not about to give a bank robber the benefit of the doubt. 

“For now, we keep this between us,” Peter continued.

“Is that a good idea?” Ned asked hesitantly.

“I’m with Ned, you really should tell him,” MJ joined in.

Peter shook his head, “You guys didn’t see what this suit did to him. It physically altered the chemistry in his brain. He’s an addict. I don’t want to ruin his progress. I can handle this myself.”

Ned and MJ obviously didn’t want to, but they reluctantly agreed. They went back to normal school work after that, and it was just as they were packing up to leave that MJ pulled him aside.

“You better keep me updated on this. I don’t want this to get out of hand,” she said sternly, but Peter could see the worry in her eyes.

“Okay, but I know I can handle this, don’t worry,” Peter reassured.

“I’m holding you to that,” MJ warned. 

The three of them walked out of the library and held a small conversation in the hall as they walked to class. MJ turned down one hall early leaving Ned and Peter, but unfortunately, they weren’t going to the same class.

“Hey, good luck in anatomy, I’ve heard the teacher is giving you a partner that you’ll be stuck with for the rest of the year. Some kind of new teaching technique that the science department wants to try,” Ned said as they stood outside Peter’s classroom door. 

“I hate it when they do that,” Peter sighed, “Do they at least let us pick partners?”

“Ha! Nope. Good luck, bro,” Ned joked as he turned to hurry down the hall towards his own class.

“Thanks, man,” Peter rolled his eyes with a slight smile as he turned to walk into the classroom.

Anatomy wasn’t so bad. They’d been going over the basics, which essentially meant bone structure, and they had just finished the final test the week before where they had to label all the parts of the skeleton. Literally. They labeled every single bone in the human body. 

Okay, maybe it was kind of a tough class, but Peter had never been more thankful for Karen. She creates excellent quizlets and study guides; Peter wondered if Tony added that feature on purpose. Either way, they were not only useful for Peter but he had her post them on the student message board simply under the name ‘Karen’. It wasn’t like anyone actually knew that Peter had his own AI, let alone what its name was, so it might as well have been an anonymous post.

Peter found his seat towards the back, where the teacher had them sit alphabetically. He never expected to feel a little disoriented about his name change before; he was fairly familiar with most of the students in school since he knew them from other grades, but now having his usual placement in an alphabetical setting offset by just three letters was like having a mysterious force move everything in your house an inch to the left.

Leaning back in his chair with his bag under the blacktop desk and a pencil and notebook in front of him, Peter watched as the stragglers hustled into the classroom. The science tables sat two students each, and it wasn’t long before Peter’s neighbor, Lissa Taris, showed up. Despite sitting next to each other, she pretended that he didn’t even exist. She was the classic perfect blond-haired pretty girl that was on the cheerleading squad. He never really understood why so many guys swooned over her. Yeah, sure, she was objectively “pretty”, but under all of that makeup and hair dye, she was a total bitch. 

Though she was amusing at times, she ignored Peter after they first started sitting together, so he just ignored her right back. She probably expected him to fawn over her, or try to win her over, but when that didn’t happen, it seemed to ruffle her feathers. In her efforts to pretend he didn’t exist, she probably paid more attention to him than when she just vaguely ignored him.

Peter muffled a laugh as he watched Lissa flip her hair at him in attempts to hit him in the face. She shot a glare at him but Peter looked down at his phone smiling like he read something funny. Out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted a blush of anger as she huffed in annoyance before facing forwards. 

Eventually, the teacher, Mrs. Jacobs, stepped in. She stood at the front of the class and waited a few moments as the students settled before speaking.

“Now that we’ve gone through the basic structure of the human body, we will be covering more complicated topics. For the rest of the course, you will have a partner, and before you ask, no, you cannot pick. I will also be changing the seating arrangement so you’ll be sitting with your new partner.” She cleared her throat then looked down at a piece of paper, “Abraham Brown and Jessica Long…” she started. Everyone began shuffling around, and Mrs. Jacobs pointed to the seat each set of students would be sitting at. 

“Flash Thompson, Peter Parker,” she said, pointing to the desk at the furthest right edge of the classroom in the middle of the row.

“Fuck,” Peter heard Flash whisper to himself. 

_Wasn’t that supposed to be my line?_ Peter thought to himself. It probably would have been if it were a year ago.

Peter had made it clear to Flash that he wasn’t an outlet for his own issues, since why else would someone bully a peer so consistently? Either way, Flash had left Peter alone and they both minded their own businesses. He hadn’t even talked to Flash since the other teen apologized about his behavior. 

It never occurred to Peter that Flash might have been avoiding him. At least, that’s what his comment suggested.

Peter took his seat and Flash was quick to follow, but he could sense an awkward stiffness from the other boy as they both settled their supplies on the desk. 

As the teacher continued calling names, Peter got comfortable in his chair as he leaned back. He couldn't help but stare at Flash who kept his eyes locked on his composition book, his shoulders stiff.

>I’m not going to bite, you know,< Peter joked. He wished his translator could portray emotions like the suit one used to, but Tony has yet to figure out how to get an accurate reading on the face without a full mask.

Flash finally glanced over at Peter, his eyes glossing over the prominent scar on his face before looking him in the eyes. 

>If you’re still worried about me holding a grudge against you, don’t be. Like I said, we’re cool.<

Flash relaxed slightly, “Well you haven’t said anything to me since I apologized, so I wasn’t sure.”

>We aren't exactly friends, Flash,< Peter signed truthfully. >The only reason that we talked before was because you picked on me at decathlon. Now since neither of those things are applicable, there’s never been much of a reason to talk.<

“Right… guess we have to talk now. Sorta stuck as partners,” Flash looked back at his notebook as he lightly tapped his pencil against it.

Peter thought for a moment; Flash didn’t seem to be that bad of a guy and he definitely turned a new leaf over. He seemed to be feeling remorseful for how he used to act… Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to give the guy a second chance. 

>Tell you what,< Peter started, >How about we just start over?<

Flash looked at him questioningly, “What do you mean?” 

Peter playfully smirked before putting on a friendly smile, >Hello, my name’s Peter Stark. Nice to meet you,< he grinned as he held out a hand. 

Flash looked at him like he was crazy, and it seemed to take him a few seconds to process what Peter was proposing. He looked down at Peter’s hand hesitantly before reaching out, “Flash Thompson… Nice to meet you too?”

Peter shook his hand firmly before leaning back in his seat again. He wore a smug grin while Flash just shook his head in confusion, “I’m gonna be honest, Stark, you’re kinda weird,” Flash laughed nervously.

>I’m going to assume that’s a compliment?< Peter chuckled. >But if we’re going to be working together, you might as well call me Peter, Eugene,< he teased. 

“So long as you never call me by my first name again, I’ll call you whatever the hell you want,” Flash snickered; the tension from before had faded away.

>Sounds like a deal.<

Mrs. Jacobs called their attention after she finished listing off the pairings and started the day’s lesson. It looked like their next section was going to be about muscle structure. 

As school went on and the day came to an end, Peter stood outside waiting for his friends so he could talk with them before they left. 

He couldn’t help but notice a slight buzz in the air from the other students, with the name Spider-Man bouncing through the crowd. While it was a common subject for students to discuss, it usually wasn’t a hot topic for conversation unless something major happened. Peter frowned and felt his phone vibrate. He quickly pulled it out and noticed a notification from Karen. It was of a news report, whose headline read: _Spider-Man gone rogue? Webslinger attacks police after robbing a bank!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys remember what you're reading.
> 
> Slight spoiler(?)  
> Warning minor Self Harm but only for the sake of disguise.

“Hello, dear wife of mine!” Tony greeted lovingly as he entered Pepper’s office.

“Yes, husband?” Pepper looked up from her paperwork with a small smirk on her face, the two still being very much in their honeymoon phase. They were constantly and endearingly finding ways of reminding themselves, and any other poor soul in the area, about their recent marriage.

Tony took the few strides needed to cross the room, and from behind his back, he revealed a paper bag with one hand and a large, poorly-hidden bouquet of assorted flowers with the other. “I brought you something,” Tony smiled. 

“I see that,” Pepper grinned as she stood up. She walked around the desk to retrieve the flowers, taking a kiss from Tony in the process. “Are those chocolate chip muffins I smell? Are we celebrating something?” She was surprised as she took the flowers over to the countertop that lined one wall of the room. There she took out a vase from the top cupboard and filled it with water from the little sink.

“I don’t know about celebrating, but I feel a pat on the back is appropriate,” Tony said smugly as he took the bag of muffins over to the table that sat near the counter. Pepper placed the flowers in the middle of the table then they both sat in the comfortable chairs next to each other.

“Your talk with Peter went well?” Pepper asked, her own excitement breaking through her usually-professional demeanor. 

“Fantastic, actually,” Tony grinned as he pulled out the muffins for both of them, he set them on the napkins Pepper brought over from the counter. “I’ll admit he was a little apprehensive about it, but Peter’s agreed to do two other things outside of the Spider gig.”

“Oh, Tony, that's great!” Pepper pulled Tony into a hug. “Has he decided what he wants to do yet?” 

“Still deciding on the second option but he did tell me that he was alright with returning to the internship. Hey, you know, this could be a good opportunity for the two of you! He could head over here sometime after school and talk with you about the internship; think you could figure out what’ll work?” Tony questioningly suggested with a raised eyebrow. “It might make for a nice bonding moment? Hey, who knows, you two could make it a regular lunch date when he comes over for the internship.”

Pepper lit up with a smile. “I would love that.” She let out a wistful sigh, “You two have your lab time and engineering, but I just-” she shook her head, “I don’t know how to connect with him.”

“Maybe the internship can act as a middle ground,” Tony replied gently. 

“I do hope so.” She smiled sadly, “... he still flinches with me when I accidentally catch him off guard.”

Tony placed his hand over hers. “We are doing everything we can for Peter, and you are being  _ so  _ patient with him.”

“Guess I got enough practice with you.” Pepper let out a small wet laugh, and she quickly looked up to avoid smearing her mascara. 

“At least all those years were good for something,” Tony joked as he handed her a napkin so she could dab her eyes. 

“I just want him to have a proper family. I don’t want him to worry. I don’t want him to be scared. I- I just want him to feel loved,” her voice wavered slightly, but like the pillar of stability that she was, she held strong.

“And that’s exactly what we’re doing,” he held her hand comfortingly between both of his. “Giving him a family. It’s just taking him a little time to grasp it. And he will, I promise you, he will eventually. Because, Pepper, I can see it in his eyes; he wants this family just as much as we’re willing to give it.”

Pepper let out a small sniff as she smiled, and quickly pulled Tony into a hug. “Since when did you become so inspirational?”

“Guess I’m getting wise in my years,” Tony replied. 

It was then both their phones dinged, only to be followed by FRIDAY’s voice > _ Boss, you’re gonna wanna see this. _ <

Both Starks pulled out their phones, and they looked down at the Daily Bugle’s headline with concern. 

***

“Bullshit!” was the first thing that drew his attention away from the Bugle’s article. Looking over, he was a little surprised to see that Flash was the one protesting the accusation. Peter would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so serious.

Peter’s phone started to ring, and seeing that it was Tony, he quickly answered.

“Calling about the Bugle?” Peter answered.

“I wanted to see how you wanted to handle this,” Tony replied. “Pepper and I have dealt with bad press before-” 

“ _ I _ dealt with the press,” Pepper interrupted from the background. 

“ _ As I was saying,  _ we’ll get right on this and make sure Spider-Man’s name is cleared,” Tony continued. 

“Actually… I kinda wanted to handle this myself,” Peter said nervously.

“Peter wants to handle this himself,” Tony said, sounding like he put distance between himself and the phone.

“Really? How?” Pepper asked, her voice sounding slightly distant.

“What’s your plan, Pete?” Tony said, his voice sounding clearer and closer to the phone.

“Um, well, I modified your baby monitor protocol. I’m calling it the Spider-Eye; it’s programmed to record all my outings for investigative purposes and to, well, clear up confusions like this,” Peter explained.

“Huh, that’s actually pretty clever,” Tony sounded impressed and Peter felt a wave of relief at his answer. “Nice going, kid.” 

Peter beamed, “Yeah, thanks! I thought, you know, might as well. It could clear things up if needed.”

“So, who do you plan on sending this to? Jonah himself or another news outlet?” Tony asked.

“Well, actually, I was thinking of sending it to Lieutenant Anderson. If the police released a formal statement, it would go smoother in the long run and it might even open up opportunities for Spider-Man to work with them later on - but I’m not really sure about that last part. I haven’t thought about that part much,” Peter said quickly. 

“Anderson’s a good choice, though wouldn’t a cop stationed in Queens be better?” Tony asked.

“His partner moved to another state; Anderson was transferred to Queens,” Peter provided. He made sure to see what the two officers were up to after the career-boosting case involving Peter himself along with the bust of the illegal animal fighting ring.

“Well that’s convenient,” he said, a little surprised. “It seems like you got this handled. I’ll let you get started on that and we’ll see how it goes,” Tony said cheerfully. 

“Okay, sounds good. Um, I’ll see you later,” Peter said.

“Alright, see ya, kiddo. And good luck,” Tony said before hanging up. 

Peter let out a long breath. Logically, he knew it was a good idea to have the Spider-Eye for events like this but a small part of him was still worried that Tony might be angry at the idea. If he was being really honest with himself, the constant approval was a little more stressful than he expected, almost like it was too good to be true. For once, he was glad he had his weekly visit with Dr. HAL today. He felt like that was something he needed to bring up.

“Karen?” Peter said to his phone is a low voice so as not to be overheard. 

> _ Yes, Peter? _ <

“Proceed with the Spider-Eye Protocol.”

> _ Right away! _ < she said cheerfully. 

There was a short honk down near the street where parents picked their kids up that pulled his attention away. Peter could see Happy waving towards him through a rolled-down window. Peter glanced around seeing no sign of Ned or MJ who would usually be finished with Decathlon practice at this time, it wasn’t until he had already closed the car door and buckled himself into the front seat that he checked his phone.

**Ned: Can’t meet after school. Helping MJ and Mr. H plan next comp**

Ah, that explained it. 

“So, how was school, Pete?” Happy asked as he glanced at the rearview mirror before pulling the car forward through the congested streets.

“Eventful,” Peter said shortly, but then decided to elaborate. “Flash and I are science partners, but he and I are cool. I’ve already decided we’re going to be friends now so he doesn’t have a say in the matter whether he actually wants to or not,” he said, amused with his own antics. “Oh right! And Spider-Man is being accused of robbery but that’s being handled,” Peter looked down at his phone. 

Happy only gave him a glance before saying, “Oh… well, that’s interesting,” sounding like he obviously did not know how to respond to that. Despite his many,  _ many  _ years dealing with a man like Tony Stark, Peter was his own kind of ridiculousness. 

Despite his quirks causing difficulties conversation-wise, Happy wouldn’t have it any other way. “Wanna grab some burgers on the way home?” he asked.

“Hell yeah! I’m starving,” Peter said cheerfully. 

***

After finishing his burgers with Happy and getting back to the penthouse, Peter went straight into Tony’s office. He went straight to the desk and plopped himself in the cushy office chair. Moments later, the hologram blinked to life and displayed in a large font “ _ Dr. HAL” _ . 

Both Tony and Pepper were out which was more or less done on purpose. It was a lot easier talking to the therapist when he had the peace of mind that no one would accidentally walk in.

> _ Hello, Nor, _ < a firm but gentle male voice spoke. Peter picked the tone himself; Dr. Hal was unique in the fact that he was more customizable than the other personal assistant programs, which was a decision that the AI itself came up with after its psychiatric database was incorporated. With the user allowed to decide what voice it spoke to them in, it was a little easier to open up to it.

There were a number of sound files that Peter went through, the one he finally settled on to remind him of his uncle. At least, what little he could remember of him. 

> _ Is that what you’re still referring to yourself as? _ < Hal continued.

Peter nodded.

> _ Have you considered why you think that? Last time you said you weren't sure. _ <

If Peter was being honest with himself, he still had no idea why. “So today Flash and I were paired up as partners.” Peter deflected. They were both well aware of what he was doing but instead of pushing for a response, Dr. HAL simply said, > _ Well, that must have been a surprise! _ < with a humorous tone.

Maybe next time he’ll try to have an answer for Dr. HAL.

***

Peter still had to decide what his second non-spider activity would be. He sat through his classes with the usual ‘It’s finally Friday’ jitters that every student experiences. Those same jitters were only exemplified by the fact that Peter promised himself that he would find some extracurricular by the end of the day, but as the final bell rang, he still didn’t have an answer. 

Furthermore, he hated the idea of wasting his time with something he didn’t care about when he could better spend it as Spider-Man and, you know, actually helping people. 

Peter let out a small, frustrated breath as he walked through the hallways that were flooding with students. The hallways would be empty soon, but that didn’t make their prolonged exit any less irritating. He was wandering aimlessly since he had no desire to leave school without a decision, and Ned and MJ would be stuck in Decathlon practice for another hour.

Eventually, Peter found himself near the front office, looking over the school bulletin board. There was no better place to look since all the current clubs and activities were available there. There were clubs of all types, from Band to the recently commissioned Dungeons and Dragons club, to join. But he had already read over those notices. Everything was either too uninteresting to consider or would take more time then he was willing to commit. Not to mention, most of the big clubs were competitive and often had trips to compete in.

He tried that out with Decathlon; it definitely wasn’t worth the hassle when he also had to juggle being Spider-Man… Though he will admit, it was handy to have an excuse to go out of the state that one time.

“‘Scuse me,” a teacher said politely. Peter was pulled out of his thoughts as he shuffled out of the way. He watched the teacher post a colorfully designed flier on the board.

_ ART CLUB! _

_ Everything From Painting to Photography! _

_ Mr. Walker’s Room 220a-220b _

A word stood out to him.

> _ Photography? _ < Peter sighed. That would be perfect for what Peter was looking for. He wouldn't have to worry about competitions; he could just say he’s doing it for fun  _ and  _ it would give him a fantastic excuse to roam the city to “look for good shots”. He could use that time to do some footwork on investigations as well as a low profile patrol. 

The teacher turned towards Peter with an excited grin. “Are you interested?”

> _ I think so, yeah, it looks fun _ ,< Peter nodded quickly.

“Fantastic! I don’t think I’ve had you in any of my classes - I’m Mr. Walker,” the teacher provided. “We have club meetings every day after school since we're a bit of a melting pot but with the amount of collaboration that goes on between the different art types, I think it’s a great benefit. We’re a fairly large club so we meet in both the art room and the southern computer lab next to it. I’m heading that way if you want to join me?” 

Peter glanced towards the front doors of the school. With the large glass windows, he could tell Happy wasn’t there yet, so he shot off a quick text to the man to let him know he didn’t need a ride today. > _ Yeah, maybe you can tell me more about it on the way? _ < he then said to Mr. Walker.

“Of course!” the teacher said enthusiastically. Peter followed the man down the hall. The art room was almost on the other side of the building. “Now, there aren't that many in the photography portion of the club right now but we’re hoping to fix that this year. The school wants to encourage the students into entering their pieces into competitions. Right now, we only have one student, Priscilla Ironwood, who could enter photos, but the school doesn’t want to use funds for a one-student trip to this year's composition in Detroit. So... if you were interested in missing a few days of school, there are plenty of entry-level competitions you could try.” He gave Peter a small encouraging nudge. 

Peter just smiled shyly. > _ I don’t know about that, but I’ll think about it, _ < he said, for the sake of not completely lying. Should he enter the competition? Answer: No. See? There, he thought about it. Sorry, Priscilla, it looks like you're not going to composition this year.

“Take your time. There’s still another month for applicants to sign up.” Mr. Walker said as they approached the art room. “So here we are!” He presented the borderline chaotic room with a wave of his arm.

There were at least twenty people in the art room and a handful of groups scattered around the area. Some were working on charcoal sketches, others painting. There was a boy in the corner nodding his head to the beat coming from the radio as he layered newspapers on shaped chicken wire. Someone had turned on a hairdryer plugged in near the sink; the pink-haired girl using it was gently waving the hairdryer at her paper as if trying to get the air to contact it at just the perfect angle.

“You’ll want to go this way,” Mr. Walker said as he motioned towards the door on the left wall. It opened into the computer lab; the room was much quieter in comparison to the other but still just as busy. On the computer screens, students were working even more projects. Some were video editing, others doing animation, and there were even students using tablets to draw on.

Peter’s spider-sense gave a gentle alert. He was quick to spot the camera lens to his right.

Suddenly there was a bright flash in Peter’s face. He faked surprise by taking a small step back and rubbed his eyes in the process. 

“That would be Priscilla,” Mr. Walker laughed. “What have I told you about startling the new recruits like that?”

“Hey, by this point, it’s a right of passage,” she shrugged nonchalantly. From behind the camera, Peter could see square, bronze-framed glasses glint against the light of the room. Her short, dirty-blond hair fell forward covering part of her face as she looked down at the picture on her camera. With the attitude of someone who’s done it a thousand times before, she flicked her head, forcing the hair out of her way. “Huh, you are surprisingly photogenic.” She frowned at the photo. 

> _ Sorry? _ <

“She’s just upset she can’t put a funny picture of you on the club member’s board,” Mr. Walker chuckled.

> _ Always glad to foil an evil plan. _ < Peter grinned. 

Priscilla shot him an exaggerated glare before looking back at Mr. Walker. “So what’s the new guy’s poison?” 

“You’re looking at the newest member of the photography portion of the club,” said Mr. Walker proudly. Peter gave a shy wave to accompany the news.

“Finally! I don’t have to be the only one anymore.” Priscilla suddenly gasped, “Wait! Does this mean that we get to go to composition this year?!” 

“That’s a possibility, but I think it’s a little too early for Peter to decide,” he replied. It was then that someone from the art room called Mr. Walker’s name. “That seems to be my cue. I’ll let Priscilla give you the photography tour.” 

Peter watched as the man walked over to the girl who previously had the hairdryer, and she started talking to him about something with the painting she was doing. 

“Seeing as you already know who I am, and everyone in New York knows who you are, we can skip right over to the camera stuff.” Priscilla then turned quickly on her heels and walked over to a large metal cabinet. Peter took a few hesitant steps to follow her.

“This is where we store the cameras. Mr. Walker lets you borrow them whenever you want so long as you write your name on the sheet and mark which camera you took out. They are all completely identical… that being said, number 3 is my favorite and I will fight you for it,” she warned. “But, I doubt you’ll be using any of these ones since you’ll be getting your own soon anyway.”

Peter tilted his head with a questionable look. 

“Were you not planning to get your own camera later? Since you’re living with Tony Stark, I doubt he’ll have you settle for some school rental,” she remarked. There was an immeasurable amount of sass behind it that Peter skillfully ignored. Though he still couldn’t help but frown at the assumption.

> _ I’m still deciding if I want to do photography or not. _ <

“Either way,” Priscilla shrugged, “it’s not like he can’t afford it.”

> _ Anywa _ y,< Peter said, trying to move on from the conversation, > _ I’m sure there’s more to photography than just snapping pictures, right? _ <

“Obviously! Grab a camera so I can show you how to mess with the settings,” she replied.

Priscilla spent the next half hour showing Peter the basics of photography. She went over ISO settings and showed him how to adjust it, what lighting different levels were used in, what type of shutter speeds were appropriate for what images, and tips on using the aperture correctly when focusing on a subject. Then for the next half hour after that, she went over everything  _ again  _ but this time quizzing him on certain aspects. 

“What happens if your ISO is too high?”

> _ The image could look grainy and the brightness might be too much. _ <

“What kind of shutter speed do you use on moving objects?”

> _ Set it towards the faster speed. Slower shutter speeds are used for still subjects or long exposures for effects. _ <

“What is the aperture and what is it used for?” 

> _ It’s the blades that can be open and close in the camera lens. It’s used to adjust light and focus. _ <

“Impressive,” she smirked. “Didn’t think you’d catch on so quick.”

Peter just gave an innocent shrug. 

“Well, that’s really all you need to know for the basics so I suggest using that knowledge to take pictures. It’s mostly trial and error from here... and developing an eye for things,” Priscilla added. “Once you’ve got some images, I’ll show you then how to spruce them up in photoshop. Hopefully, you can get a small portfolio together for the composition next month.” 

> _ I haven’t decided if I’m doing that quite yet, _ < Peter said again.

“Oh trust me, you’ll be going. I’ve been waiting two years to finally get another person in the group. I will drag you there myself if I have to,” she warned.

Peter laughed quietly to himself.  _ I’d like to see you try _ , he thought.

He didn’t stay at school much longer than that. Priscilla showed him a few YouTubers that were good for beginners to watch as well as going over some basic dos and don’ts of photography. Though most of those were exclusive to beginners, like any art form, once you're familiar with the rules, you can start breaking them to further express creativity. Not that Peter will be taking any of this to heart; it is just a cover, after all. He’s only learning enough to make it seem like he’s getting into a new hobby.

With joining a club checked off his mental list, now was onto the next task: finding John. 

He didn’t call for Happy, Tony, or Pepper as he pushed his way into the dark empty gym. His steps were naturally quiet against the sleek basketball court as he made his way towards the locker rooms. He was going to swing his way home later, but for now, he needed a disguise. It needed to be something that Peter didn’t normally wear, and taking something from one of the other students’ spare clothes would work perfectly. He justified this decision by promising himself he’d return it before anyone noticed the missing items on Monday. 

Lockpicking was an easy and useful skill to develop as a courier. When things got heated after Peter was led behind locked doors to deliver packages, it was a necessary skill to know if he wanted to be at the next drop off in time. The Deadeyes were somewhat of a ‘volatile’ gang, and that was putting it lightly. Fights breaking out between lower-ranked members was a common occurrence. 

It took only three lockers to find a fitted black long-sleeve and a dark green button-up shirt. It was after the fifth that he found a forgotten blue scarf tucked away on the top shelf. Since it was the top half of clothes that most people kept their attention to, he kept his own boots and jeans because the dull colors that he chose were there specifically to avoid standing out.

He looked himself in the mirror to check the disguise over. He tugged the open button-up over to one side so a sleeve hung lower than the other, causing the shirt to look crooked. He completely messed up his hair, even going so far to use a very tiny bit of hair gel he found to make it seem greasy and matted in some places. He tried to tousle it in a way that it would cover the upper part of his scar then used the scarf to conceal the bottom half of his face. 

He frowned at his own image, dissatisfied. The clothes were too pristine and his scar was still visible enough to draw attention. If his hair was just a little longer then he'd be fine, but with his usual cut, it was far too exposed. He’ll need to let it grow out, but for now, he’ll have to figure something else out. 

Pulling down his scarf, he leaned over the sinks to get a better image of himself in the mirror as he shifted his head to the side to run his finger down one of the claw marks.

He could use makeup, but he doubted that any tutorial he could learn in less than an hour would look convincing. Hoods were out of the question since he was growing known for them, and although his time as Nor influenced a rise in masks, they usually only covered the bottom half of the face so a full-face mask would only draw attention. 

Peter huffed in annoyance as he pulled the scarf back up. He almost left but paused as he noticed something when he took one last glance at himself. 

The edge of his scar almost looked like a light bruise. One that had time to heal but was still partly prominent. 

Now  _ that  _ was an idea. 

A black eye would distract enough from the scar. If he aimed right, he could take advantage of swelling skin to hide it completely. It was then that the thought connected. It would look even more convincing if he looked like he got out of a losing fight. It would be relatively easy to dirty up the clothes. He’d just have to wash them before he returned them to their rightful lockers.

Right, that’s what he was going to do. As bizarre as it sounded, he needed to beat himself up. Pulling down his scarf one last time, he sighed. He wished he could be Nor again. Hiding would be so much easier, he’d still have his old contacts, and he wouldn’t have to go through this whole charade to go places he could have previously walked into with no problem. 

Unfortunately, that bridge was burned when his name was released to the press. 

Whatever. 

Peter was nothing if not adaptable. 

Balling his right hand into a fist, then, without hesitation: 

_ Once _ .

_ Twice _ .

_ Three times _ \- 

**Crack!**

Shit.

He broke his nose. 

In this particular situation, his durability was more of a hindrance than a help. To injure himself, he needed to use his super strength. Unfortunately, he might have used a little too much.

The pain was… not nearly as much as he thought it would be. Losing fights in the arena was a good way to raise pain tolerance; hell, he was pretty good at managing physical pain beforehand. May found out pretty quick that physical abuse wouldn’t cut it - that’s how she developed her fucked-up psychological warfare. 

Peter breathed heavily through his mouth as his nose filled with blood. He leaned over the sink to let the fluid drain down into the basin. Looking up into the mirror he could see his eye was quickly reddening as the swelling slowly developed. Within the hour, it would begin the process of healing, so by the time he stumbled down some stairs or rolled around in the dirt, it would be a sickly dark purple when he got to the subway. 

To fix the pressing problem of his broken nose healing wrong, he quickly pressed the balls of his palms against the boney bridge of his nose. He shifted the bone back in place, causing a bloom of pain to pules through the area. A new surge of clotting blood rushed its way into the sink. 

He waited for the blood to slow to a near stop before he started to clean up. His bruises were darkening and by the time he left the building through the gym's broken emergency exit, it was difficult to keep his eye open.

He decided to take advantage of the nearby park’s stairs. It was much easier to dirty up his clothes and avoid extreme injury when all he had to rely on was gravity. 

The bruises would only be dark enough for a few hours, so after checking his disguise one last time in a closed shop’s window, he was glad to be satisfied with the results.

“Time to get to work,” he smirked at himself.

Traversing through the city on the ground unseen was like riding a bike. He hadn’t been gone long enough for his mental map of the city to change and he passed through the shadows like it was his second skin.

It was strangely… comforting. It provided him a much-needed relief from the weight that usually accompanies him when standing in the light where people could see him. Where they could watch him. Judge him. 

People always assumed they could see everything just because the light was shining on it. The bright pretty world where everyone thinks it’s all laid out plain and simple… but that was simply far from the truth. 

Exposing light on the subject would always provide the opportunities for well-crafted lies to blend in, but at least in the dark, you knew something could be hiding.

With purposely heavy steps, Peter took an old set of stairs into one of those wonderfully dark places: the old train station hideout Nor was familiar with. Getting to the bottom of the stairs, he took a turn down narrow hallways. The darkness was pushed back by dim old Christmas lights, and he followed the line of them to the platform where the main bar and hangout was.

Just as expected, he blended in with a few others wearing masks. His dirty clothes matched that of many others walking around the area, and no one even batted an eye at his injuries - some even preferred looking away. Although his methods were drastic in his disguise, the results were worth it. His full plan fell into place when he spotted the person he did this all for. 

He approached one table made from an industrial-sized spool after spotting a familiar red hood. “Rory Hendric. I knew I’d find you here,” Nor spoke in a low, almost dangerous tone. “Or are you still going by Red?”

The boy, who was actually nearly two years older than Peter, looked over at him. A flash of worry crossed his face but he quickly covered it with a sly smile and charming look, “Would sure like to know who's asking.”

“Usually people remember the one who saved their life, but I’ll give you a break since it was nearly a year ago,” Nor said with a hint of amusement.

Red’s eyes widened at the realization, “No fucking way.” He took a quick glance around the room as if worried anyone else in the subway made the same connection along with him. 

“I’m calling in that debt,” Nor said plainly, ignoring Red’s shock and wanting to get straight to business.

Red swallowed nervously, “What- uh, what do you need me for? Kinda looks like you have things set living with St-” He side-eyed the table next to them where a meth head drooled against his own arm as he slept, “living with  _ you know. _ ” It was then he glanced at Nor’s face and winced, “Unless you got the short straw again… He didn’t-”

“No, never,” Nor interrupted quickly. “It’s makeup,” he lied. “Had to hide my scar.” 

Red let out a small laugh, “Right, I remember when I couldn’t go more than an hour without seeing your face plastered on a screen or paper. I doubt anyone here would welcome you… Still, like I said, if you’re living with that guy now, why do you need me? With all that -  _ those resources _ ” he corrected himself (because you didn’t just talk about money so openly in a place like this; it seems he’s learned that since last time they met). “You can get whatever you want,” he continued.

Nor could appreciate his subtlety, even if it needed some work, “Come now, Red, connect the dots. Even with that, it can’t always get me what I need in a city like this. Especially if it's associated with him.”

“Oh, right… but why would you want to? This place, the streets, everythin’ down here’s a shithole. If I had what you had, I’d take that golden ticket and never look back,” Red looked down at the table, his eyes filled with his own troubles and worries. 

“Believe me, I know as well as anyone that no one ever  _ wants  _ to be here. My situation was a peculiar one anyways,” Nor paused then looked up to drag his eyes around the room. A few familiar faces he had known around were gone, new ones, younger ones, took their places. Peter could empathize with them - all of them. “Back then it was a job; now it’s a responsibility. But before I can get to that, I need your help finding someone.”

“No offense, but you weren’t exactly hanging around vegans and pacifists,” Red huffed.

“That’s not true.”

Red raised his eyebrow.

“There was a dealer in Flatbush who’s vegan.”

Red couldn’t help but laugh, “So now that you can talk, you’re a comedian, huh?”

Peter gave an innocent shrug. “I try.” 

There was a beat of silence before Red’s smile faded and worry overtook his features. “I know I owe you, and I wanna help… but what’s stopping these guys from killing me?” he said quietly. 

“New York’s Web-head.”

“No- What? How!?” Red asked, shocked. 

“Long story short, once you know one hero, it’s easy to contact the rest. He’s agreed to watch your back while you do this.” Nor hoped that sounded reassuring enough to ease Red’s worries.

Red ran his hand through his hair, a common nervous tick, before using it to cover his mouth in thought. He took in a breath before speaking, “Fine, alright. If he’s there then yeah, I’ll do it,” he said reluctantly. “But just - whatever happens, I can’t get arrested again. I turned 18 last month. If I get caught now, I’ll go straight to jail,” he said helplessly. 

“He’ll be running point on this, so as long as you do exactly what he says, no one will catch you. Got it?”

Red nodded; his obvious nervousness about the whole situation was only growing. 

“He’ll find you tomorrow at 11 pm; be on a rooftop.” With that, Nor stood up to leave. He already knew who Red would be meeting with and where they would be, so all he had to do now was wait until tomorrow night.

Once outside, he climbed up to a secluded rooftop to change into his Spider-Suit. He couldn’t go home quite yet; he needed to wait till his bruises were healed. He didn’t want to worry Pepper or Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope everyone remembers what story you're reading.  
> :}  
> You shouldn't forget what I'm capable of.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be aware.   
> Warning: Mentions of Suicide

Peter was out so late patrolling that he didn’t talk to Pepper or Tony until the morning of the next day, and by then, his black eye and broken nose had healed almost completely. The only evidence was a light, dirt-colored bruise on his left cheekbone.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Pepper greeted him. She sat at the kitchen table in the small dining area that was technically a part of the kitchen. Despite the semi-open layout, Peter would consider it a room of its own. (They had a much larger guest dining room that Peter has yet to see used. The doors to it were on the wall opposite of the kitchen and next to the mini dining room).

Peter groaned a small “G’morning” as he flopped down on the cushioned chair next to Pepper.

“Thought you weren’t going to wake up ‘till this afternoon. You got in pretty late last night,” Tony said from the kitchen. He walked over with a plate of bacon, eggs, hashbrown, and delicious looking chocolate chip pancakes. He set it down in front of Peter.

Peter would have slept until noon if it weren't for the enticing smell of breakfast waking him up. “I planned to get back earlier,” he yawned as he grabbed his silverware. “But there was a guy trying to be the next big villain; he had one of those flying Chitauri bikes. No idea where he got it but he knew how to drive it. He didn’t damage anything but it took _forever_ to finally catch him.” Peter spoke between mouthfuls of hash browns mixed with eggs. He liked to save his pancakes for last. 

Thankfully there was no mention of the bruise on his face. He was sure they assumed it was from the flying bike guy, who admittedly rammed into him with the bike during a failed attempt to catch him. “So I signed up for the Art Club,” Peter said after there was a lull in the conversation.

“Oh, that’s fantastic!” Pepper said happily. 

“Yeah, they do photography and that looked pretty interesting… so I joined,” he shrugged awkwardly.

“After you get a feel for it, if you’re really interested, we can look into some cameras,” Tony said as he took a seat at the end of the table. His gaze fell to his tablet as he tapped away on whatever project he was working on.

Peter’s mind vaguely went back to the comment Priscilla made, but before he could go anywhere with that thought, his phone chimed with the tone that signaled MJ texting him. He took another bite of eggs and hash brown before pulling his phone out.

 **MJ: Hey webhead, was that Loki-wannabe crashing into you last night finally enough to break your phone?**

Peter just grinned as he responded.

**Peter: Nope! Completely intact. I think it actually absorbed some of the fall damage lol. How’d you even know?**

**MJ: The internet has eyes and ears everywhere, my guy. You can’t hide from it. But I guess Stark really did mean Hero Proof™. I owe Ned 30 bucks now.**

**Peter: Make it all ones. You can make a joke about strippers or something.**

**MJ: I like the way you think.**

**…**

**MJ: He might actually spend it on flowers or something.**

**MJ: He’s been crushing on a new girl lately.**

Peter frowned. He didn’t remember Ned mentioning a girl… but to be fair, he’s been so busy as Spider-Man that he hadn’t really hung out with them much recently. 

**Peter: Ned’s got a crush??**

**MJ: Yeah, but I doubt it will go anywhere. I can already tell it might be one of those types that will fade in a week or two.**

**MJ: Just gotta keep him from making hasty decisions before then.**

**Peter: Lol why so watchful?**

**MJ: I saw how your first crush went. Even without the part where you left school… I could tell you weren't actually into her.**

**Peter: Yeah… that was kind of a disaster.**

He hesitated before sending his next text. 

**Peter: Annnnd… welllll… she wasn’t actually my first crush.**

**MJ: Oh?? What crush have you been hiding from me??**

Peter blinked wide-eyed at the message. Shit, what had he done? He shouldn’t have said that.

 **MJ: Come on, you can tell me** **( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)**

**MJ: You brought it up, so you /have/ to now**

Right here goes nothing…

**Peter: Um, well. You, actually.**

In a small panic, he quickly added:

**Peter: But then I found out you weren't into guys after the second week we met.**

**Peter: So obviously nothing was going to work between us.**

**MJ: Where’d you hear that?**

**Peter: You were talking to Flash. I overheard... Sorry?**

**MJ: ...That was a lie to get that oaf to stop asking me out.**

**Peter: Wait… what?**

**MJ: I’ve also got a crush on you**

“Oh my god!” Peter quickly stood up in shock. His chair flipped over behind him, and the plates and silverware on the table clattered as he bumped into it. Tony and Pepper looked at him, surprised.

“Everything alright?” Tony asked.

“MJ has a crush on me!” Peter said in utter shock.

“Oh boy, um-” Tony said at a loss for words as he desperately looked towards Pepper.

“Ok, we can do this,” Pepper said with a calming breath. “First things first. Was that a good ‘oh my god’ or a bad ‘oh my god’?”

Peter froze; he wasn’t entirely sure. “Um- uh... Good?” he said quickly. He suddenly took in a deep breath in preparation for the rapidfire spew of words needed to explain teenage drama in a timely manner, and said, “I used to have a crush on her, but then I thought she was gay. And then I was like ‘yeah that will never happen’ so I just kinda pushed it aside, you know? And then it’s now and I’m looking at her text and- ugh! I think I still have a crush on her!” he spoke so quickly that he’s pretty sure only Pepper could follow him.

Peter’s leg shook from all the excited and nervous energy that suddenly built up. The chair was still across the floor, but he wasn’t willing to let go of the phone that was gripped in both hands as he looked at the screen. He dropped to his knees and rested his arms and chin on the table as he looked as he read her words again and again. 

“Oh my god, what do I do?!” he said in a panic as he dropped his head against the table with a groan. “D-do I ask her out? No- wait that’s stupid, I can’t do that!”

“If you both like each other, go for it!” Pepper said. 

“It’s not that simple!” Peter squeaked.

“Why not?” Pepper challenged. 

“Well- I mean- We- Ugh. Really? I can just ask her out?” 

“I don’t see why not. Go on!” Pepper said, shooing him away into the other room. “Call her! I bet she’s freaking out just as much as you,” Pepper giggled. 

“Right, okay, call her! I can do this, I totally got this,” Peter muttered to himself.

“Go get em’, tiger,” Tony said with an amused laugh as Peter quickly walked back towards his room.

The moment he got into his room, he closed his door and immediately called MJ before he could psyche himself out. 

“Hello?” MJ answered slowly. 

Peter froze, he stared forward at nothing as he tried to find the words. 

“Peter?” she said. 

He blinked, how was he going to do this? He didn’t even know what to say? What if it ended in disaster, and he lost MJ as a friend? What if he didn’t actually like her like with Liz-? No, that was stupid, he’s always liked her. That’s just how he’s always felt, right? Everything’s fine, he’s fine, it's simple he’s just gotta ask her out! Simple…

If it was so simple, why couldn’t he make himself _speak_?

“Helllllo?” MJ said awkwardly.

Peter.exe had admittedly stopped working, and he _had_ to say something. So in that split second, he detached himself from the situation and jumped into the mindset of working a job. This wasn’t MJ, this was someone he had to get close to for… something. That didn’t matter. What mattered was that he needed to ask her on a date. 

“Hey!” Nor grinned, “So, now that we’ve found ourselves in this particular dance that has left up both with some groundbreaking information, I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date with me?”

“Oh wow! Um-” he’s never heard her sound so flustered before and he found it adorable. “Yeah. Yes, sounds awesome!” she said with a small laugh.

“Fantastic,” he replied. “So I can’t do anything this weekend, but how about Monday? I know you’ve got decathlon, but I can meet you there at 5 when you get out.”

“O-okay, sounds awesome,” she laughed again. 

“I’ll see you Monday, Michelle,” he replied smoothly.

“See ya Monday,” she replied faintly. 

Peter hung up and just stared at the phone… Did he actually do that? Did he really just ask MJ out?! Yes, undeniably yes! He laughed at himself as he felt giddy at the thought of Monday being so close.

***

Rory “Red” Hendric fidgeted nervously as he stood at the edge of the rooftop looking out at the illuminated city. He wore his usual red jacket despite the warm weather. In a life of owning only what you could carry, the jacket had become something of a safety blanket he’s had since he was small enough to use the thing as a sleeping bag. By some stroke of luck, when he stopped growing, the thing fit him perfectly. 

Yeah, some parts were clearly ripped and resown countless times, and there were off-colored patches on the elbows where the original fabric had worn out and Rory had to use whatever fabric he could find to fix it, and the hood’s string had been yanked out long ago during a scuffle with another boy at one of the foster homes he stayed in, but it was the one thing that stuck with him since he got tossed into the useless system after his mother dumped him at the doorstep of a fire station with a note saying she didn’t want him.

With his arms resting over the raised ledge of the rooftop, he looked down at the faint glowing front of his flip phone as it told him the time. 

11 o’clock - Spider-Man should be here soon. 

As amazing as he was feeling to be meeting one of New York’s heroes, he wasn’t exactly excited for the reason. But a debt was a debt. And Red didn’t just owe Nor for saving his life; he also owed him for Anderson and Stark for letting him go. He was released with a slap on the wrist since Nor took priority over everything since it was the biggest story in New York at the time. 

Funny how a courier with that kind of reputation ended up being a nerdy-looking kid from Queens. 

But he’s heard stories to contradict that persona; rumor has it in the underground that when Nor fell off the grid, there was a guy in Russia fighting mutants with the same name. Some said he was powerless, others said he had super agility, but Red knew you could only trust rumors so far. What he did know, for an absolute fact, was that there was more to that kid than New York would ever know. Especially if he was associated with someone like the Widower. That’s a night Red would _never_ forget.

There was something dark about this _Peter_. Deep in his eyes, you could see it if you looked close enough. Growing up smart and fast, Red knew how to look for it. It was a shame that he didn’t look hard enough until their second meeting. He was almost glad that his debt was being paid with something as simple as getting information. Who knew what Nor had planned down the road now that no one had a leash on him.

There was an audible crunch of gravel behind him as he whirled around to come face to face with Spider-Man.

“Hey-ya!” the hero said cheerfully with a small wave. “Sorry I’m late, but there was a mugging a few streets back. Had to make sure the victim was okay getting home.”

“‘S fine. Got nothing better to do tonight,” Red shrugged. “Your plan anyways.”

“Nor’s plan,” Spider-Man corrected. “I’m gonna be honest, I really don’t like all of this at all, especially since it’s putting you in danger…” he said sympathetically. 

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Red scoffed. 

“Good thing that’s why I agreed to come along. I promise I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” Spider-Man said sincerely.

The promise eased some of the worry that Red was feeling, but this whole thing was still unnerving. “Let’s just get this over with,” he sighed. 

“I hope you rested well; we have a lot of places to go tonight,” Spider-Man said, showing him a list of names and their locations that he pulled out from some hidden compartment. Red didn’t see where he retrieved it from.

There were a dozen or so names on here… it was going to be a long night.

***

As Peter watched Red like some sort of arachnid guardian angel, they found that locations 1-4 were a bust. One of the names on the list was dead, and the other three locations were tied up in a territory dispute. It would be impossible to get any information from the men in the middle of a gang war. 

Location 5 was where the courier hired just after Peter left was currently living. He said that John had bolted the morning after the Widower infiltrated his computer. 

That put him last seen on January 20th. 

Location 6 was in the process of being raided by the police, and Peter was lucky enough to grab the target just as she was jumping over the fence to escape. After some questioning, he found out that the Deadeyes had been hunting him since he disappeared. 

Location 7 was a drag club, and it had the most promising information. Red went in through the back while Peter followed him through the vents.

One of the performers, Sispend Belif, who was currently on a break, was an old army buddy of John’s. Like before, Red was the first to talk to her, but her loyalty to John was a lot stronger than Nor had expected. It was only when she threatened to throw Red out that Spider-Man had decided to reveal himself. 

It took some convincing, but Nor was able to talk the queen into opening up a little.

“It’s been over nine months since I’ve last heard from him,” she said with a light British accent. “All I know is that I got a text from him saying he's going outta town for a while, but that was back in February.” She walked over to one of the bright mirrors of the dressing room to sit down. “What do y'all want with him anyways?” Sispend asked casually as she turned to freshen up her makeup in the mirror. She paused, “He’s a good man, you know… He never wanted to be roped into that gang stuff. He’s just had bad luck…” 

Peter considered what to tell her for a moment. He then looked back at Red, who was standing awkwardly in the corner. “I’ll meet up with you outside,” he told him. Red just nodded hesitantly before leaving the changing room and heading towards the back door.

“I know you’re not telling us everything,” Peter said as he cautiously approached the chair that Sispend sat in. “Can you keep a secret?” he asked quietly. 

Sensing the seriousness of the question, Sispend looked up directly in the eyes of Spider-Man. “I wasn’t MI6’s best agent for nothing,” she said in a tone closer to her natural octave. “But you know that, don’t you?” she said with a small smile. “Someone like you would do your research, right, Peter?”

Honestly, Peter wasn’t even surprised. He just chuckled, “Technically, you weren't even part of MI6; you were some kind of consultant if I read right. But there was a lot of redacted information, Willam Quarters.”

“Then I should clarify, I was better than the best,” she said as she began to apply one of the makeup brushes to her face, “And I prefer Sebastian. At least when I’m not in dress...” She then let out a small sigh before putting down the brush to grab a pen from the table as she wrote on a scrap of paper. “I don’t know where he went, but I do know he’d be stoppin’ at one of those places before he skipped town.” She handed Spider-Man the paper. Peter had Karen take a quick scan of it before tucking the list into his pocket. 

“Thank you. I’ll make sure to contact you in case I find anything,” Peter was grateful to finally get some useful information. “I’m about to shine a light on a lot of dangerous people… I just want to make sure he’s not caught up in it,” Peter said quietly.

Sispend held her jaw tight as she looked in the mirror at herself. Peter could swear that he saw her eyes sparkle a little brighter, “Oh, honey, it’s a little too late for that…” she said, quietly blinking away the shine. 

Peter was left feeling confused at her words. They hung with him as he climbed up into the air vents to meet up back with Red outside. 

They had five more locations to visit, and the night was getting late.

***

Red was unsurprisingly exhausted by the time the night was over. One of the remaining locations was a little more eventful than the others since Red had accidentally walked in on a sting operation. The police quickly assumed that he was associated with the drug dealers that they were trying to apprehend. So, in order to make sure that the cops wouldn't catch Red, Peter tripped up the real culprits so that the cops would be too busy with their arrests instead of focusing on the newcomer. Peter recognized a few of the thugs, and it was satisfying to see them shoved into the backs of the police cars while in handcuffs.

He did the job well, and with the information they gathered, Peter considered Red’s debt paid in full. A small part of him wanted to take a step further and reward him for his cooperation. If he left Red feeling well compensated for all the unexpected trouble then he might be more inclined to work with him again in the future - the life debt no longer withstanding. If Red wasn’t interested (which was more likely the case), he still deserved a few days rest for his troubles.

After a quick text to Tony and a prompt reply, Peter got the permission he needed. 

Spider-Man and Red parted. Peter easily changed into a hoodie with his suit shifting colors to appear as normal clothing underneath… at least, if no one looked too closely. The tech needed some work, and the spider emblem was still too noticeable, but it was easy enough to cover. 

“How’d it go?” Nor asked as Red passed one of the shrouded alleyways.

“Jesus- What?!” Red said, jumping back in a small moment of terror as he clutched his chest. “Where the hell did you come from?” he asked with heavy breaths. 

Ignoring the question, he continued, “A few blocks north, there’s a hotel… come on, I’ll get you a room,” Nor said casually as he motioned for Red to follow. 

Red just stood there, dumbstruck. “Sorry?” 

“For you to sleep- I know you're exhausted. Tony said I can get you a room for a couple of days… as thanks for helping me out,” Peter shrugged lightly as he continued down the street.

“Stark?” Red said, stumbling after the other teen. “He knows about this?”

“Of course, it would be too difficult to sneak out so I might as well keep him in the loop. Things are… complicated right now… but he’s more understanding than I deserve,” Nor looked down at his feet as he kicked a forgotten bottle cap into the street. 

“By letting a kid wander New York alone at night?” Red asked, confused. 

Nor just laughed, he looked back at Red, his eyes just peeking out from behind his hood, “Please… I’m not exactly a normal kid.” He looked forward again as he walked along the curb with perfect balance. “Plus, if there’s trouble, I can hit a panic button and three Iron Man suits will come hurtling to earth via a satellite. Almost tempted to press it just for the spectacle.” 

“You’re so bizarre,” Red finally said. Then in a slightly harsher tone, he continued, “It’s like you enjoy it out here in the slums, in the underground, like this whole thing’s just a game to you.” He scoffed. 

Nor paused in his steps as he looked up at the broken street lamp above him. “There are places a lot darker than the New York underground.” He looked back at Red to see him stopped a handful of feet behind him, the other teens face scrunched up. A clear signal that he didn’t understand. He didn’t blame him; not many would. “Let’s go,” Peter continued. “I’ve gotta get home soon.” 

*

Peter crashed the moment his head hit his pillow. He didn’t bother changing his clothes; hell, he didn’t even take the suit’s boots off. He simply curled up in his hoodie and buried himself under the pillows and blankets, his mind too exhausted to dream.

***

From Karen’s report, it was five am by the time he got home last night, and it was one in the afternoon by the time he woke up.

“Late night again?” Tony asked from the couch as Peter walked into the living room. 

With his hair still damp from the shower, he plopped himself onto the loveseat angled to the left of the couch. His tablet was set on the coffee table, and the TV was running episodes of _Star Trek: The Next Generation_. Peter hasn't really gotten into the show, but he did enjoy it whenever Tony put on some reruns. 

“Definitely the last late night for a while,” Peter groaned as he still struggled to blink his eyes awake. Despite the grogginess being an annoyance to most, there was something peaceful and relaxing about it. Rarely did he allow himself to acknowledge the feeling; something like that was a luxury when you lived under constant threat. 

After a long yawn and a few seconds to recover from it, Peter said, “So, I was thinking about getting some photos today. Nothing fancy, just with my phone, but MJ and I can’t go on our date till she’s done with decathlon practice. Might as well use that time to start learning the photoshop process.”

Tony just nodded a grin spread across his face as he looked over at Peter with a raised eyebrow, “You think of a place to go on your date?” 

Peter ignored his gaze as he tried to play it cool and watch the TV; he was horrible at hiding his flustered grin. “Yeah, I got a few ideas. She really likes the Italian Restaurant over on 74th. I was thinking about grabbing something from there and watching bad horror movies on the roof or something. She loves criticizing them.”

“Oh? Looks like you have things all planned out there. You should probably ask how late she can be out. Gotta parent a little here, so curfew is going to be 9 o’clock; it’s a school night, and it’s for things not spider-related. Plus, she’s probably got her own curfew.” 

Peter just nodded, “Sounds reasonable enough.” 

They both watched the TV for a while longer, each checking their phones and the different apps and sites they frequent. After the current episode ended, Peter took that as a good time to leave. After a quick goodbye to Tony, he grabbed his jacket and headed out the door… well, the elevator - they didn’t technically have a door unless the emergency exit counted. Fancy penthouses were strange like that.

Walking through the streets of New York without any attempt at hiding was a little different than when he ventured out before he met Tony. With a very obvious scar on his face, people could pick him out of the crowd much easier than he liked. He wasn’t a fan of the attention _at all_. Especially when his spider-sense gave him constant warning of someone watching him, though he was glad to know none of them had ill intentions. But he had a feeling they would be taking photos that would find their way under the tag #IronSon.

Eventually, he pulled up his hood and kept his head low. When he felt fewer people recognize him, his spidey sense settled down into something more manageable. Though after the distraction was taken care of, he’d come to realize he had no idea what he was supposed to be taking pictures of.

He sighed. What was this cover even for if he had no idea what he was doing?

Eventually, he found himself a tree to sit under in a nearby park and pulled out his phone to watch the videos Priscilla suggested. After an hour or so had passed, he leaned back with a small, frustrated frown. Yeah, he knew the basics of taking a photo, but how exactly did that help him know what to take a photo of?

Peter let his eyes drift around the park as he tried to think. That was when he noticed it. 

Sitting there in the peacefulness of the park, no distractions, no obligations, just… existing, Peter sensed it. A gentle nudge in the back of his mind, it was no doubt his spider-sense, but there was no warning, no negative feeling. Just a sense that there was something that needed his attention, something he might be interested in. 

The sense was so faint, it was difficult to tell what exactly it was telling him since he wasn’t used to that kind of sense. So as he looked around the park, he played a little game of hot or cold with himself.

_Cold. Cold. Cold. Warmer. Colder._

Too far... 

_Warm. Warmer. Warmer. Warm-_ stop. There it was.

Looking up into the trees and through the leaves, there was a faint window allowing him to see a tall, looming building with the sun just behind it. The rays fell around it like it was outstretching its arms, and Peter most definitely found the sight interesting. 

He pulled up his phone and took the shot.

He blinked down at the image. From a novice perspective, it really wasn’t that bad… huh, guess he just has to find things that... well, ‘speak’ to him. Or whatever you’d call that.

Peter stood up and dusted himself off; maybe this photography wouldn’t be that bad. 

He took a stroll around the area, trying to find more things that ‘spoke’ to him. But there was nothing like before. He did see a pigeon sticking its head out of a trashcan and took a picture of that to send to Ned since it was funny, but it didn’t speak to him.

Well, he kinda knew what he was doing now, so he should probably get to the real reason he came out here. Photography was a cover, after all.

Peter pulled out the list of addresses he got from Sebastian during the hunt for information last night. Everything pointed to John heading out of town a little over nine months ago, eight if the last one to hear from him was Sispend.

It was a pretty cold trail, but if those safehouses were well hidden, then there should be a clue somewhere to follow. Peter set off towards the closest location in Queens.

***

There were three houses in Queens, four in Brooklyn, and one in Manhattan. 

After spending the afternoon running to each address in Brooklyn and Queens, he was finally crossing the river to check the one in Manhattan. 

The others had been rundown apartments in varying states of distress; one was just a shack on a roof, but each was filled with dust and looked like they had been untouched for years. There were various ‘go bags’ hidden within them, but they were all still intact.

The last one was his only hope for a lead.

At least with all this walking and taking things at a pace slower than swinging through the city, Peter was getting better at noticing his new sense. Each time led him to different shots, but each was something that interested him. He gathered three more pictures. One was of an old man with a brown bomber jacket and tinted aviators sitting casually at a bus stop. Another was of a broken tree limb just barely hanging on as he was about to reach a stream of telephone wires just below it. And finally, the last one: a solitary blue balloon drifting over a wooden water tower.

As Peter sat on the subway heading into Manhattan, he looked at the photo of the blue balloon. There were so many questions. Where did it come from? How was it lost? Was it a kid who lost it? Do they feel sorry for it being lost, or did they release it out of curiosity? The fascination of never knowing the true story behind a single blue balloon floating against graying clouds was utterly fascinating to Peter.

He briefly considered submitting the photo as a contestant for the composition that the art teacher mentioned. Would other people have the same questions as him?

His thoughts were pushed aside as the train screeched to a halt. There was not much use thinking about that stuff anyway; he had no plan to go to the competition. After he found John, he still had the mystery of the bank robber to solve. 

The address led him down towards Hell’s Kitchen. Despite the Battle of New York happening five years ago, some of the buildings haven't fully recovered. The damage was extensive, but that wasn’t to say that they hadn’t come a long way since then. 

As Peter walked through the street, a light drizzle showered the area. The gray clouds that were featured in the balloon photo had darkened, and Peter suspected it would be pouring soon. No matter; he was almost at the office building where the safe house was, but as he approached it, the thing had a “condemned building” sign over the front and boarded-up windows.

He turned the corner just before he reached the entrance of the building. As per the instructions, he found the set of stairs in the alleyway leading down into the building’s basement. The shadows grew darker as he descended, and when he reached the door, he found it already unlocked. 

Promising. John had no need to lock it up if he left.

He pushed it open to reveal a long hallway with doors lining the walls leading to different storage rooms. Peter wrinkled his nose at the smell of old death. It wasn’t uncommon for animals, usually rats, to find their ways into the walls of old buildings and parishes. Peter had visited many places like this, and he had no doubt he would visit many more after. 

He walked down the hall, noting the number of each door as he looked for fourteen. Using his phone to light the path, he eventually found a light switch as he passed the stairs leading up from the ground floor, and he flicked it on. By a miraculous stroke of luck, the power was still running. Only half the lights illuminated, and they gave the hallways a harsh yellow hue.

Towards the end of it, the hall split into a T intersection. 10 was the last door he passed. 11 and 12 were on the left with 13 and 14 on the right, with 14 at the end of the short hallway. 

Peter noticed the old smell of death was a little stronger over here; it must be closer to where some rat had died. Or perhaps a string of traps in one of the storage rooms that were never cleaned up. 

He stopped just at the intersection. The spidey sense returned. It wasn’t a warning like he expected; instead, it urged him to _look_ down the hall. Door 14 loomed over him; it was enshrouded with a flickering, dying light that made it scarcely visible. Peter pulled out his phone and once again as he aimed to take the photo.

He angled it to seem as if the viewer was peering around the corner and was staring at the almost-ominous door at the end of the dingy hall. Looking at the captured picture through the lens of his phone filled him with a strange sense of dread.

Not from his spidey sense; there was no danger here - he was sure of that. 

But from a deep, primal reaction that belonged to any human.

He turned on his phone light as he approached the door; the old smell grew sharp in his nose. 

That deep sense of dread grew in the pit of his stomach as he reached out for the handle. 

With a light twist- 

He pushed the door open. 

The smell hit him like a wall of putrid needles that were clawing at his nose and eyes. He reeled back from the stench and quickly covered his face with the fabric of his hood. There were a dozen startled screeches as rats scattered from sight. He watched as a handful ran under him towards the exit. 

He knew what was waiting for him when he looked; the pulsating dread inside him had shifted up into his chest, and he almost felt like it was choking him. His makeshift mask did little to guard against the assaulting scent, and his panicking breath was no help.

Unlike the unknown from the blue balloon, the contents of Door 14 stood before him. 

He finally looked up.

And there-

Staring back at him-

Were the empty eye sockets of the man he was trying to save. 

The body had been there a while and any flesh that hadn’t already been eaten by the rats was dried and blackened as it hung off the bone.

But Peter still hadn't removed his gaze from the eyes. 

He wasn’t even sure how long he stared at the empty judging sockets that screamed **You Failed** over and over in his mind. The glint of something shiny in the corpse’s gnawed-but-intact hand was what finally drew his attention away. 

It was a pistol, the same one he’d seen John pull out from time to time when he lived with the man. His former means of protection lying on the ground next to him with an empty bullet casing laying just a few feet away. 

Looking back towards the eyes, he could finally see the bigger picture.

The corpse sat upright between two boxes. On the wall behind it was an angled spray of blood. 

Head blown out. 

Gun in hand. 

A finger resting on the trigger. 

And a shell casing on the ground.

Suicide.

And eight months too late.


End file.
